


Worth the Risk

by passionfruitwriter



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending, Homophobia, M/M, Smut, Suicide mention, graphic suicide descriptions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-04-26 09:39:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 33,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4999876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/passionfruitwriter/pseuds/passionfruitwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan moves with his conservative mother and stubborn little sister to a new neighbourhood. Here, his mother decides to force his sister into dating the classy Phil. When she doesn’t want to, Dan accidentally volunteers to become her understudy, so that he has to do all the awkward dating. After a while though, Dan realises those dates aren’t so bad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! In case you didn't come here from my tumblr post, I'd just like to note that this is my Phandom Big Bang 3 fic. Credit for betaing is http://www.sexuallyambiguous.tumblr.com/ and for the lovely cover art is http://www.hemmingsscruff.tumblr.com/ 
> 
> Enjoy!

                                          

 

Dan had never been good at handiwork. His fingers were thick, clumsy and he was left handed. No matter how much he concentrated on it, it just never quite worked. His quick movements were interrupted by a shrill voice in the distance. He let out a sigh and let his hands drop the black piece of fabric onto the floor. He had been trying to tie his tie for at least 10 minutes, but his thick fingers kept getting stuck in the silky knots.  
“Daniel!” the voice bellowed again. “Did you not hear me the first time?” He cringed visibly, hunching his body down. The voice was dribbling with annoyance and urgency. It was easy to imagine his mum standing by the staircase, stamping her food in the ground in a fit of anger.  
“I’m having problems with my tie, Mum,” he yelled back. Silence ensued. He looked down at the motionless piece of soft fabric and then up at himself in the mirror. His black jeans hung tightly around his legs, revealing the feminine curves that he had only just recently learnt to admire. He had rolled the sleeves of his black shirt up to show his forearm, and the see-through fabric exposed his muscle lacking stomach. He was contemplating whether another black item was necessary, when someone walked in the door. To his relief, it wasn’t the sharp scent of his mother that had entered his room, but a much sweeter aura.  
“Dan,” Amy said with her soothing voice. “How long have you actually owned a tie?”  
“For like,” Dan closed his eyes, pretending to think. “As long as I’ve had to wear a shirt.” She chuckled, picking up the abandoned fabric on the floor. As she made to tie the tie around Dan’s neck, a frown formed on her face.  
“Why are you even wearing a tie?” She looked up at him.  
“Mum put it in my pile of clothes to wear,” he answered, raising an eyebrow. “It wasn’t like, a personal fashion decision.”  
She humphed silently and threw the silky cloth back onto the floor. “The rest of the black was, though, wasn’t it?” She smirked and gave him a light puff when he didn’t reply. “Toss out the tie, mate.” He was just about to give her a sarcastic comment when the shrill voice whined once again.  
“Amelia,” it yelled. “Hurry up or I’ll get up there!”  
“We’re coming Mum,” Amy yelled back, her voice suddenly resembling an angry troll rather than a fairy. “Chill, woman” she added quietly.

*

The late summer air was chill and smelled vaguely of smoked wood mixed with a strong scent of roses. According to Dan, this was the perfect condition. All day, he had been sitting inside playing video games, claiming to his mother that if he went outside he would be drenched in sweat and his hair would get ruined. It was better now; he was actually able to breathe outside. Not that that was a particularly positive thing. The outside around him was notably uninspiring. The street went far over a mile in a straight line, same-size houses symmetrically placed along it. All the houses had the same tame, red brick colour that essentially looked like prison buildings. The neat lampposts were bend slightly and didn’t contribute in making the street lighter and livelier. When the street was proper dark, it almost looked as if particles of dust flew around in their spotlights. Though it wasn’t a surprise that the dull edge of London would look like a screen-cap from an old American horror film, it wasn’t especially uplifting. Dan shuddered slightly and instead decided to focus on the people walking in front of him. The two women were striding along in a fast pace, talking about something in raised whispers. From behind, their figures were quite similar; both tall with a straight form. Only Amy’s long, prominent chocolate brown curls marked the difference between them.  
“Wearing a tie means that you are a fine, notable gentleman-” he heard his mum argue.  
“Wearing a tie to the wrong outfit means you have no sense of fashion,” Amy responded in a hushed voice. If her face had been visible, it would probably have looked done for. “Mum, nobody is going to judge Dan for not wearing a tie, just like nobody would judge me if I wore a dress that did not cover my knees.” She put extra pressure on the last part of the sentence. “If,” she continued, the other lady looking as if on the point of exploding, "you'd let me wear any.” Suddenly there was a stop in their pace. Amy had her hands in fists, her chest puffed out. “Those dresses are not fit for young ladies,” their mother responded, nose held high and arms crossed.  
“I’m not a lady!” Amy hissed and stamped her foot; their conversation was done. Dan zoned out for the rest of the walk, not daring making any comments.

The party was set to 6 o’clock. This fitted Dan perfectly; they would be done eating the first dish by twilight, and then Dan could use the coming darkness to avoid socialising. It only took 5 minutes to walk from their house to their destination. If he could be bothered, he would probably be able to see his house from where they stood now.  
“Now kids, act nicely,” their mother prompted as they were stood outside one of the many houses on their street. It didn't stand out, but the pretty flower beds and the bright blue post box made it not blend in entirely. "These people have been so kind as to invite us into their humble home,” she paused to take a deep breath. With her eyes closed, it almost looked as if she were meditating. “We do not want to test their generosity, right?”  
“No Mum,” they said in unison.  
“Well then, I’ll knock,” she finished solemnly. It took about ten seconds after they’d knocked till the door was opened in a quick swing.  
“Oh hello!” a gentle voice welcomed them in a loud tone. It was a plump woman, much unlike the three guests stood in front of her. Her hair was styled in a bun, which didn’t do her round face a favour, and she wore a loose pink dress and a pink hat. Dan tried not to suppress a laugh as he was reminded of Hyacinth Bucket. “Welcome welcome! Our special guests!” She laughed a high pitched laugh, opening her arms and welcoming them in. She gave Amy and his mother several keen air kisses, which made Dan opt for the classical hand-shake. “What a nice gentleman you are,” she cheered loudly, not letting go of his hands. Dan nodded awkwardly, trying to get out of her tight grip.  
“Thank you so much for your hospitality Mrs Lester,” his mum beamed. “It was incredible kind of you to invite us in to your lovely home.”  
“Oh don’t think about it, dear,” she said, letting go of Dan’s hand to clasp them together in joy. “It was only needed. I know how difficult it is to be new in a neighbourhood.”  
“Oh well,” his mum answered, “thank you again!”

“Won’t we be acquainted with Mr. Howell tonight?” Mrs Lester asked as she led them through the living room to an open glass door.  
“Er,” his mum hesitated. “He’s on a very important business trip at the moment.” She smiled brightly, her cheeks almost devouring her small eyes. Dan exchanged a quick look with Amy before they were rushed outside by an eager Mrs Lester. At first sight, the garden looked petite. In the middle of it, there was a tall garden tent set up, tables placed neatly inside it, decorated with both pink and yellow patterns. Surrounding the garden stood a tall evergreen hedge, towering over the many flower beds spread all over the green patch.  
“She’s really creepy,” Amy whispered in his ear as they took in all the other guests in the garden. Most of them were elderly, dressed in flowery dresses and never-used golf uniforms. There were a few children, chasing each other in between the chatty guests.  
“Oh there you are,” a familiar voice came behind them. It was Mrs Lester, coming up behind them with two glasses of champagne. “Before we eat, you must meet my son,” she sang, yet again holding onto Dan, this time the sleeve of his shirt. “He’s just your taste I bet,” she added, looking at them both, but keeping an unmistakable stare at Amy. “He’s the finest gentleman of our family-” she continued as she dragged them towards the left side corner of the garden. “He loves art and literature, and is highly intellectual,” she gave a warm smile before she stopped them to go find his son in a small group of men.  
“I bet he’s creepy too,” Dan whispered to Amy, begging that Mrs Lester couldn’t hear him.  
She nodded. “Doesn’t sound like much fun.”

Not a minute later, Mrs Lester returned with a tall boy at her arm. He was wearing a dark blue button-up shirt, tucked neatly into his black trousers, and a loose tuxedo vest that contrasted his pale skin colour, though there seemed to be a permanent pink colour patched on his cheeks. Probably the heat. He wasn’t wearing a tie. The blue of his shirt matched his dark hair, which was styled in a fringe that had been put to the side. He wasn’t drinking champagne; instead he held a cocktail glass with a dark pink liquid and a colourful umbrella.  
“This is Philip,” Mrs Lester said proudly, holding onto his waist. “Philip, this is Daniel and Amelia.”  
“Nice to meet you,” Philip said and shook both their hands. His voice was in a monotone, though it sounded much deeper than Dan’s.  
“Now, I’ll let you mingle as I bed the guests to sit down,” she smiled as she patted her son's shoulder and hurried off. After she’d left, silence ensued. He looked towards Amy at his side, hoping she would initiate in a conversation. However, her head was turned in a completely different direction.  
“Well,” Dan started, averting his gaze towards the boy stood in front of him, though not meeting his eyes. “So Philip, do you like it here in this area?”  
He seemed to hesitate for a split second. “No, not really,” he said casually. “And please call me Phil.”  
“Oh,” Dan said, not sure what to reply. “Alright Phil.” He bit his lips anxiously, turning his gaze yet again to Amy. Before he could start to speak again, however, the crowd of people was silenced by Mrs Lester clinging her fork against her champagne glass.  
“Attention everyone,” she sang. “I’d like to bid you all a nice welcome. Food will be served in a minute, and there is no seating arrangement so please do sit down,” she smiled as people began to move towards the table. “Oh and by the way, don’t forget to thank Mr Lester for providing this food for you.” She nodded towards another tall gentleman standing not far from them, which was assumably her husband.

As the dinner progressed, his mum and Mrs Lester had already been through various conversational topics such as the impossibility of having a perfect garden in the British weather, the perfect way to make tea, and the several scandalous documentaries on Channel Five, which both women had strong opinions on. Dan and Amy had been able to eat with complete silence between them, their tranquillity only being interrupted when someone needed them to hand them food. Even though Phil had been sat next to them for conversational reasons, he had not prompted to speak once. However, when the chatty women ran out of conversation, Dan was the new victim.  
“I’m really proud of my Daniel,” his mother said suddenly, touching his shoulder lightly. Dan was forced to look up from his food, and was met with a stingingly sweet smile from Mrs Lester. “He’s studying to become a lawyer,” his mum said loudly. If her voice hadn’t been as high-pitched as it was, everyone at the table would have heard her. “Starting at Sixth Form this September.”  
“Oh are you really Daniel?” She expressed and clasped her hands together. “My Philip is starting at Sixth Form too, this year.“ She pointed at her son, sat quietly beside her. “He’s doing Business, Media and English to become a journalist,” she added, looking at Dan’s mum once again. Dan turned his gaze at the boy sat opposite him; he wasn’t looking at his mother, but seemed rather bored, tapping his fork against his empty plate. Apparently, he didn’t value his new guests enough to care about what was being talked about around him.  
“I’m doing those subjects too, Mrs Lester,” Dan piped in. His mum gave him a pleased smile as Mrs Lester started talking to him again. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Phil’s slightly raised head.  
“You two will get to see each other a lot then. I’m sure Philip will show you around in school,” she looked at her son, who was now fully looking up. He nodded slowly. “Sure.” After that, there was a pause in the conversation. Mrs Lester prompted to get some more wine, and Dan’s mum diverted her attention towards Phil. Maybe she was trying to think of ways to turn Dan into a more awkward copy of him, or even find a way she could persuade Mrs Lester into switching them at night. Either way, she was wearing that smug grin that made Dan’s toes curl. She had worn the same grin when his dad had gotten his last promotion.  
“What about you Amelia?” Mrs Lester said suddenly. “What are your plans for the future?”  
Amy looked up at the adults for the first time since they’d sat down at the table, and fixed her eyes at the conspicuous outline of Mrs Lester. “Well when I’ve finished my GCSEs-” she began swiftly sitting up in her chair and fixing her posture. Before she could say another word, however, their mum interrupted her.  
“We don’t quite know yet. It takes a lot to determine your future,” she smiled sweetly at Amy, who had crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows. “What I’ve learned from my younger days is that a comfortable home and a nice family is what is essential to a great life. Then your career path is quite insignificant.” She smiled even brighter, looking expectantly at Mrs Lester, who sat looking trustfully at Amy. Amy’s eyebrows had now completely ascended into her hairline, her lips were in a stiff line, and her arms were flexed around her.  
“I quite agree,” Mrs Lester said, sharing an understanding look with Dan’s mother. Suddenly, the sound of a chair being scraped against stone was heard around them, and Amy was out of her seat. “I need the loo,” she shouted over her shoulder, as she rushed back into the house. Dan excused himself a few moments later.

The bathroom at the Lesters’ gave off the same endeavour as the rest of the house. It was pink and flowery, with loads of small garments placed neatly everywhere in the room. “I want to hit her, Dan,” Amy hissed loudly. She was standing in front of the mirror. Her tanned skin shone beautifully in the dim lighting of the room, but her eyes were burning with a fierce determination.  
“Don’t,” Dan said. Amy turned her head towards him and raised her eyebrows. “It’ll just attract attention,” he finished, and a small smile tugged at her lips. A content silence broke out in the room and Amy started carefully stroking her hair.  
“So what do you think of Phil?” Amy said suddenly.  
Dan didn’t answer immediately. The guy had agreed to show him around the Sixth Form earlier; surely that was a good sign. However, if he was anything like his mother, spending three weeks glued to a map seemed like a much more attractive option. Though Dan couldn’t quite imagine the dark haired stranger with the colourful cocktail getting excited over 50 years old soap operas and flowerbeds.  
“He doesn’t say much,” he replied.  
“I bet he’s just as bad as the rest of them,” she quirked. “Just as shitty- brains programmed to do nothing but conform to the shitty norms of the shitty society.” She gave her hair an extra hard tug. “I bet he’s just as nasty. In a few years, he’ll figure out what his mother has taught him and use it against people much less fortunate than him.” She sighed, and let go of her hair.  
“Yeah,” Dan agreed.


	2. Chapter Two

 

                          

 

Dan woke up to a loud yell. He sat up quickly and was forced to lay down again by the sharp streams of sun shining through the blinds of his window. His head felt heavy with sleep, only occupied by the loud noises of buzzing flies that had hidden themselves in his dismal room during the night. The angry yell that had awoken him was gone now, and he wondered for a moment whether it had been one of his usual nightmares. It was the same distraught voice that filled his head at night, but this time it sounded different. Less sad and more angry. More like a murder than a suicide. Suddenly, the loud sound of a door smashing fell through his room, and he cracked his head up again. He had gotten used to the dusty sun by now, it was only the clammy feeling of waking up with hot duvet he had to endure. His eyes scanned the room distinctly, only to land on unpacked boxes after boxes after boxes. He buried his head in his pillow with a groan.

Minutes later, Dan walked into the living room. It was a traditional drawing room; the silk curtains a light colour of beige and nearly reached the floor, where a Middle Eastern carpet lay with its finest gold and red patterns, giving the whole room a striking impression. There was a small bookshelf next to the window, where all his father's classical novels stood. The room looked different than it had in their old house. It was more fine and less practical, and their mother had dismissed his father's antique TV in the moving process, and had replaced it with a much nicer flat-screen. In the middle of the room his mother sat in her usual, red velvet armchair. She was talking to someone on the phone, her voice cheery and gratified. Maybe the yell had been a dream after all.  
"That's a date then," she said in the phone, noticing Dan walking into the room and giving him a little wink. "Great - I'll see you  
later Mrs Lester. Cheerio!" He was instantly reminded of yesterday's events as Mrs Lester's name was dropped. He gave a shudder and sat down in the beige leather sofa opposite his mother.  
"What was that about?" He asked her.  
"Morning to you too, Daniel," she said. Her legs were crossed neatly, which showed the outline of her thighs through her pink skirt. "I've just been on the phone to Mrs Lester."  
"So I heard," he said. "What did she want?" He tried to ask this in a casual manner, but it came out restrained. His mother didn't reply, but started writing something down on a piece of paper in front of her.  
"What do you think of her son, Philip?" she asked absent mindedly.  
“Er,” Dan started, not having any kind of proper opinion. “He’s alright, I guess-” he continued, but got interrupted by his mother.  
“Don’t you think he’s a fine, young gentleman?” she said. “Don’t you think he is the most intelligent and intellectual young man you’ve seen in a while?”  
“Er,” he said again. Maybe she actually did want to replace him with Phil. “I guess?”  
“Don’t you think he’s perfect?” She sighed, looking towards the ceiling, as if there was something up there she wanted to share her new-found idea with. “Don’t you think he would fit perfect into this family? He is right marriage material.”  
Dan almost choked. “Excuse me?”  
“Don’t you realise how great he would be to have in the family, Daniel? He’s studying to become a journalist. He’s got a tasteful taste in fashion. His parents are fine people. He’s got an exotic taste in drinks - did you see his cocktail yesterday? He’s handsome. Imagine the children he could produce?” She sighed again, and took a sip of the teacup on the table in front of her.  
Dan sat gaping at her. His mother walking up the aisle with a dress hanging off her loose skin, looking at a young boy with a bright smile on his face. Them kissing, young, luscious lips against old, wrinkly ones. Her bony hands on his broad, muscular shoulders and tight bum. He swallowed the liquid rising in his throat.  
“Not to be offensive, Mum,” he started, winding away the image that had formed in his mind. “But aren’t you a bit old for him?” His words received him a stare so cold you could almost see her eyes freezing into two light bulbs of ice.  
“I’m not going to marry him, you scamp,” she hissed at him. Dan shuddered. “Amelia is.”  
Dan let out a loud laugh, his mother staring at him with dismay. “No she’s not. She doesn’t like him.”  
“I don’t care,” she said. “She’ll learn to love him.”  
“Mum,” Dan said. He had stopped laughing. His mum’s chin was raised and she wasn’t looking at him. “You can’t do that. You can’t force her into a relationship. She’ll never forgive you.”  
She took a deep breath, the pearl necklace almost giving a little hop and jingling on her chest. "Daniel, you have become such a fine, young man. I think it's time for you to take responsibility, and make some big decisions concerning this family.”  
He frowned. “Like what decisions?”  
“For example, convincing your sister into going on a date with the Lesters’ son.”  
“What?” he almost yelled. "I don't want to decide for her. She has her own life!"  
“Daniel, you must understand,” she continued, “a girl in her age tends to make quite - drastic - decisions. She needs guidance.”  
"Forcing a relationship on someone is not guidance," Dan raised his voice, but was interrupted by the creaking of a door. Amy was stood in the frame, her head held high and her hair drawn back in a plait. She was wearing a red dress which stopped just above her knees and had thin strips and a low scoop neck, showing off her shoulders and collarbones. His mum looked furious. Both him and his mother stood up.  
“Amelia,” she said with a dangerous, calm voice, “please sit down.”  
“No. I’m going out,” she said coolly. Neither of them moved. There was a pause in the conversation. Outside, the birds were tweeting and peeping in the warm, summer air. Dan started fixing the curled up bottom edge of his black t-shirt, trying to make it look neater. If he left the room now, it wouldn’t do him any good.  
“Where are you going?” His mother asked.  
“I’m going to the gym,” Amy stated. “I want to be a bit more muscular. Get fit. We are starting a new school, after all.” She said this sweetly, but with the hint of a smirk playing on her lips. His mum gaped. The flies buzzing around in Dan’s room would have loved it. Better than his unkempt, messy room.  
“No,” she said firmly, “not on my watch.” Suddenly, she lunged forward and clung herself around Amy’s wrist. Amy gave a small yelp and Dan fell backwards in surprise. A few seconds later, she was sat in the beige couch Dan had sat in only moments before. His mother was hovering above her, pinning her wrists down.  
“If you don’t go on this date, I’m locking you up. There will be no phone, no friends, no going out on your own, no fun. Understood?” Her arms were shaking and the temple above her left ear was threatening to explode. Amy looked terrified, and helplessly tried to detach herself from her mother’s grip.  
“Fine,” she said, her voice quivering. Their mother let go immediately and started brushing her dress. Amy looked thoroughly disheartened, her eyes cast downwards and her plait having untied during the sudden dramatic scene. For a moment, her eyes bobbled up and her cheeks softened. “Though Mum,” she said sweetly, “I’m quite nervous about men, you know…” she trailed off. Dan’s eyes furrowed in confusion. “What if he’s not a gentleman like you said he was? What if he wants something… else from me?” Her voice got quiet.  
“Oh!” His mum exclaimed. “I suppose-”  
“Maybe our date should have a supervisor?” She looked over at Dan with an overly sweet smile. “Someone to keep an eye on him? Maybe Dan?” He felt his face grow hot. There was no denying Phil was attractive. His black quiff showing off his lean, pale forehead and soft cheeks was all Dan could remember of his appearance. Then he had almost all the same subjects as Dan, but for completely different reasons. There was no creativity or integrity hidden in his character. There was only his money-loving mother, no personality, no excitement. He wasn’t Dan’s type at all. Good thing _he_ didn’t have to go on a date with him.  
His mother looked at him. Her forehead was wrinkled and her upper lip was almost quivering. “Yes,” she said quietly. “Maybe he should.”  
“Won’t that be a bit awkward?” Dan said quickly. If he liked someone, the idea of his every affectionate gesture being watched was sickening.  
“Oh I don’t think so,” his mother said, a happy tone in her voice, “the date is already settled. Saturday afternoon. He is coming here to pick you up and take you to the National History Museum.” Dan sighed. History, _great._


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

                     

 

Saturday came quicker than he had hoped for. It wasn’t that he had absolutely dreaded it; it was more as if a penetrating reverberation of worry had built up in his stomach at every thought of it. He had always admired his ability to make every single situation awkward, but now that the situation was awkward in itself, the anguish was doubled. Amy didn’t make it better; she had been singing all morning. Chiming and dancing around her room and their shared bathroom. For her, the discomfort of the situation had lowered itself massively at Dan’s participation. Hopefully, Dan could give her back by lazily walking behind them in his own little world.

When the doorbell went off, he walked swiftly through the slim, empty hallway, and opened the door with a lump in his throat. Phil’s face was almost completely hidden by a large mass of flowers. They had soft, pastel colours, like the sour sweets you could find in Swizzel Matlow products, but with a strong smell of spring rather than the sweetness of sugar.  
"Hi," he said. His voice was sweeter than he remembered. "The date was today right?" He lowered the bouquet a bit and their eyes locked together. One of them was closed, the other one bathed in sunlight so much it almost looked white. Phil raised his eyebrows with difficulty, nodding his head towards the door behind Dan.  
"Yeah, it is today," he replied hastily. “There has been a change of plan though.” He laughed awkwardly, placing his hand behind his head. Phil was looking at him with interest, his opened eye goggling over his loose manga t-shirt. Dan peaked nervously through the open door, impatiently eyeing the empty hallway lying behind him. “Amy is kind of, like-”  
“What, are you gonna be my date instead?” Phil laughed. He had a soft laugh, much in contrast to his mother’s cold and loud roar. Dan had gone still, perplexed at the idea the other had just suggested. “In which case, do you not like the flowers?” Phil smiled brightly at him, his small, round cheeks glowing a pretty pink.  
“Not exactly,” Dan chuckled after a while. His t-shirt was getting damp on his back. Probably the heat. “I’ll take the flowers though.” He reached out to let the other hand him the fancy bouquet, being careful not to touch the other’s hand. The flower stems were cold against his fingers, and when he turned around to walk back inside, he felt Phil’s stare on his back. “Amy is just getting ready,” he said, neatly placing the flowers on a table for his mum to handle later. His eyes brushed over the empty staircase as he turned back to Phil. He had followed him inside, his lanky legs blocking Dan’s clear sight of the outside. “Basically,” Dan tried again, “Amy isn’t really comfortable about going on a date with a stranger, so I’m like, supervising and stuff.” He cracked a smile. Phil was staring at him, an amused, flirtatious smile playing on his lips. “Just being the older protective brother, you know,” he added with a wink. _That wink_. Winking was one of his worst failures as a human being. It always happened during the most inappropriate occasions. When his grandpa had died, he had greeted his grandma with a sad smile and _that wink._ It haunted him, like an old taste of bitterness and regret. Phil’s smile only grew victoriously. The sight of Dan’s reddening cheeks must have been quite a pleasure. However, before Dan could sulk lower into his own shell of embarrassment, a mass of bumpy steps became audible in the little hallway, and Amy arrived with a bored expression on her face.

*

The first part of date was quite uneventful. Phil had ordered a cab to take them into the centre of London. The escaped silence and the ravaged ruins of East London marked the longest 40 minutes of Dan's life. Phil's dad had paid it, apparently. He would rather have taken the Tube. Dan could almost hear the tense silence in the back of the car as Phil attempted to do some rather stale small talk with Amy. Her aloof voice sounded half-hearted as it mumbled on about how the weather had reached its highest point of being pleasant. Dan could spot Phil sighing in the mirror.

Getting into the museum took almost just as long as the drive there. Tons of pale men wearing socks in their sandals and sun-streaked women with at least 2 children each stood in lines in front of the building. Dan let his fingers run the length of his arms as he looked around; Phil was stood approximately two inches in front of him, Amy at his side. She wasn’t looking at him, but had her eyes fixed on a closed ice-skating rink nearby, where a group of girls were drinking coffee. If Dan had been forced on a date, at least he would have taken the courtesy to show them interest. But he wasn’t Amy. Dan let his mind forget everything about Amy’s shallow apathy and instead focused on the neatness of Phil’s hairline. Blacker than the night, Phil’s hair was a package of wildness mixed with a great deal of elegance. It was styled in the same way as the first time he had seen him; neatly brushed to the side. It looked soft, and there was a sweetness to it, as if he’d washed it in a puppy’s tears and dried it in the most delicate spring air. Maybe it had an aromatic smell of strawberries and beaches, and maybe it felt like the silk that dominated their living room decorations...  
Suddenly, a particularly noisy woman with an ice cream bumped into him from behind, and he lunged forwards with a big step, crashing straight into the left side of Phil and stumbling towards the ground. He let out a groan, feeling his cheeks heat up between the masses of feet that surrounded him. A hand was stretched out in front of him, pale and with long, slim fingers. It gleamed in the sunlight, and if it wasn't for Phil's dark-blue shirt, Dan wouldn't have been able to recognise who it was.  
"Are you OK?" Phil asked with a chuckle. Dan took his hand and let himself be hoisted up, not giving the unpleasant woman behind them an extra glance. Phil was smiling brightly, and Dan couldn't help feeling a little bit exposed as he stood there, dirt and cuts visible in the palm of his hand.

*

When the queue finally quickened up, they were led inside a big, old building. It was cool and fresh compared to the heat of the London summer air blossoming outside. Amy was the first to get in, her quick steps easily outpacing Dan and Phil’s lazy sag. Dan hesitated for a moment; Amy was supposed to walk with Phil, not Dan. She didn’t bring him here to become her substitute. That wasn’t their agreement. Dan huffed silently as he watched Amy’s loud march in front of him, her frilly skirt waving around her legs like a flag in the wind. As she’d mounted the little podium of stairs in front of them she stopped upright. High above them, she yelled something over the crowds of people surrounding them.  
“I’ll just be in the loo!”  
Then she walked to the side and Dan and Phil were left alone. Phil was staring up at where she had disappeared to, a small smile tugging at his lips. Maybe he was in a good mood. As if on cue, they both looked at each other. Phil was an inch taller than him, he noticed, but his eyes were slightly too small for his face and his lips slightly too round.  
“Do you want to go sit?” The lips moved with small movements, yet the sound still managed to become deep. “Like while we wait.”  
“Yeah alright,” Dan breathed as he followed Phil towards a bench near the toilets Amy had just escaped to. “I really should not intervene though,” he added, “you guys can just walk around and I’ll chill behind you,” he forced a smile, letting his hands brush the sleek surface of the marble bench. Phil did the same thing; his eyes were following his own fingertips, circling the beautiful pattern on the bench. His movements were slow and gentle, and Dan felt a lump in his throat at the look of them.  
“Yeah I know,” he said, “she’ll probably be back in a minute.”

A half an hour went by. Dan did the best he could to make small talk, but to no avail. The weather was only interesting for about two minutes, and Phil didn't care enough to listen when Dan talked about his sister. At last, they settled on just looking at the many different people walking by. They decided that the most common personality type was the lost family dad, who was usually walking alone, with a blank expression on his face. They made up a story for most of them. Dan's favourite one was the one where they'd decided that an elderly woman had come to the museum to steal some of the fluorescence plasma they had, but had ended up falling in love with the clumsy employee, and a lesbian romance had ensued.  
"I kind of want to go look at those dinosaurs over there" Phil said after a while, "do you think she can find us again if she," he hesitated, "y'know, if she wants to find us."  
"Well if she wants to find us nothing's stopping her."

The dinosaur section consisted of several giant skeletons hanging in the ceiling, and a little exhibition on ground. The skeletons were impressive with their epic structure and intense authenticity, but Dan wasn't looking at them. Phil had stopped half way there, and was now stood in front of a glass tank with his head raised high and his mouth agape. It made his cheeks look even rounder; like small chipmunk cheeks. His entire body was stretched out as he was observing the creatures above them, and it made his body look so lean and fit. His eyes were wide with awe, and it looked like his long eyelashes were glimmering in the dim lighting of the museum hall. Dan failed to suppress a smile, and when Phil moved his head to make eye contact, a regretful giggle escaped his mouth.  
“Hey don’t laugh at me,” Phil pouted, “I just like dinosaurs.”  
“You look like such a nerd,” Dan teased with a smile. Phil was still looking at him, but with Dan’s smile growing, his stare was becoming more intense; more focused. That face, so sleek, so slight, was boring into him. But it wasn’t a creepy stare; it was fascinated. There were no insults or rude remarks hidden behind his eyes.  
“I like your dimples,” he said after a while. Dan’s smile finally altered, and it merged into something more of a shy blush. He felt warm. The summer heat of London hadn't found its way into the cool air of the old museum building, but it had gotten remarkably warmer since they had entered.  
“I only have one,” Dan corrected him, “and it’s actually a deformative. It’s not really cute.” He shrugged.  
“I think it’s cute,” Phil said without hesitation, “and I bet all the girls are crazy about it.” He smirked, and suddenly Dan’s shoes were a bit more interesting than Phil’s intimidating face. He had had several childhood sweethearts, but nobody had ever called him cute before. “I haven’t really noticed,” he muttered, but Phil wasn’t looking at him anymore; he had his head turned downwards, as if his eyes were fixed on something on the floor. His back was bend over, and Dan felt an indescribable need to pad his back, and run his fingers over the soft patterns of the bare neck. But he didn’t. Instead, he stayed quiet and pretended to be interested in the objects swinging above him.  
“Er Phil,” Dan said after a while, “do you want to go see anything else?” Changing the subject would be the best.  
“Your sister really didn’t want to go on a date with me, huh?” he suddenly spluttered out. "Do you know why?”  
Phil was looking up at him now, his eyes had gone bigger and there was no smile on his face.  
Dan’s natural answer would be, 'because the entire devour of your family gives off an agonisingly narrow-minded vibe'. But he didn’t say that.  
“She doesn’t know you” he didn’t know where he was going with this, “I think it’s more the principle than you, though. Like, our mother is very insistent on controlling her in every way. It’s nothing personal.” He smiled, but Phil didn’t return it.  
“I’d kind of hoped it was something else, that’s all”  
“Oh.”  
“But it’s fine,” he shrugged.  
“Do you really like her?” Dan asked. The question had been lying loosely on his tongue all day.  
“No, not really," Phil said without hesitation. “She's not my type.” Dan nodded. There was no appropriate answer, nor any more questions. It was a shallow answer, really. How can you determine one's type of character without actually knowing them?  
“Do you think I’m like my parents?” Phil asked. They weren’t looking at each other anymore, instead they were leaning over the glass tank in front of them, the content merely a tank of air through their distracted minds.  
“You look like your parents.”  
“Well spotted, Sherlock.” His smile returned.  
“I mean,” Dan bit his lips, “wanting to become a political journalist, the fancy cocktail, your whole…” Dan let his hand fly from the top of Phil to the bottom.  
“Actually,” Phil interrupted, “that drink was Ribena.” He chuckled lightly - his cheeks had gone a vague shade of pink, and he was studying Dan’s face with attentiveness; every little detail exposed. Dan drew back slightly.  
“And actually,” Phil continued, “newspapers bore me. I’m doing Media because I want to work in film editing or something along those lines.” He let out a little, gentle giggle that bounced off the sounds around him and ignited something in Dan’s chest.  
“Oh,” Dan said, “that’s more exciting than an office job.”  
“And a lawyer job,” Phil said and raised his eyebrows.  
Dan groaned. The topic had turned against him. “I hate law,” he said. Phil crossed his arms in vindication. A swift change of angle and Dan would be able to see the minor muscle structure of Phil’s upper arms.  
“What else are you looking forward to about school then?” Phil asked, “except of course Media and English, because I’ll be there.” He smirked. Dan’s throat struggled to swallow. He had never been good at recognising it when someone flirted with him, but surely not-  
“Drama,” he said quickly, “I’m doing Drama.”  
“Awesome,” Phil exclaimed, “maybe if I ever make a film, you could be my star.”  
“Maybe,” Dan laughed. He looked away for a moment, trying to dry the blush off his face. “So,” Dan continued, twining his hands in his hair, “how come you wanted to go on a date with my sister in the first place?”  
“I need my mum to think I have a girlfriend,” Phil answered effortless. “She’ll start setting me up with someone if I stay single for much longer.”  
Dan frowned. He got a sick feeling in his stomach when he answered, “she literally already has, Phil.”  
“Yeah, I know,” Phil said tentatively, “but I kinda thought we would be in the same shoes, me and Amy y’know. She didn’t seem very enthusiastic either… so like, maybe she would just pretend to date me.”  
“Phil!” Dan yelled with a quiet voice, “that’s really foul.”  
“It’s not, I swear!” Phil said. His laugh had gone. "If you could somehow... just make her tell your mum that she's dating me. Then she could just go out by herself for a few hours and I could too. Wouldn't be a problem."  
"I don't think that's gonna work," Dan said. Phil looked at him with a hopeless pout. "You need to have some kind of continuity... a flow. You can't keep this up without communicating. Something is bound to go wrong if you've got the wrong informations or a lack of authenticity."  
"Do you have any suggestions then?"  
"Well, the most obvious solution would be that you just go out as friends... go do some, I dunno, shopping each time?"  
Phil groaned. "She won't agree to that," he looked up at him with a sad face, "it would be the most boring friendship dates ever. We have as much in common as like, Anime and politics.”  
Dan frowned. "You haven't even had a proper conversation Phil."  
"Exactly!"  
Dan went still for a moment. There was no way Amy would agree to date Phil in any way. He would have to think of something else.  
“I think it’s a lost cause, Phil,” Dan said, “you’ll have to find someone else. “  
Phil gave him a sceptical look. His eyes looked confused, but his lips were tugged up in a smirk.  
“Do you have anyone in mind?”  
“No-” Dan said immediately. He was about to mention that he had literally just moved into their neighbourhood this summer, but Phil’s face had turned downwards, perfectly resembling a rainy cloud with a sad pout. “Look,” he started again, “I’ll ask her as soon as we get home, but I can’t promise anything.”


	4. Chapter 4

 

                                         

 

Dan and Phil’s conversation had flown fluidly all day, yet as soon as the cab drew up next to St Albert's Square, Phil went quiet. All journey, he sat looking out the window. Amy sat in the front seat on their way home, of her own request. After Dan and Phil had gone through the most exciting parts of the venerable museum, Dan had called Amy. He should’ve called her the minute they’d realised she wouldn’t come back, but somehow, Dan had put it off. Instead he’d spent the afternoon eating ice cream and talking about spaceships with Phil. Together, they had concluded that the National History Museum was not worth another visit, and they had spent the remainder of the day wondering why they hadn’t gone to the Science Museum instead. Phil wasn’t sad that Amy had bailed on them, yet at times, Dan detected his faltering smiles and forlorn eyes showing more and more. But he still laughed at Dan’s jokes, encouraged him to talk in such a way his eyes smiled every time Dan began a story, and broke any potential awkward silences with quirky remarks about people around them. Yet Amy had never shown up, and had never seen Phil draw the curtains of his parents’ bloated image. Apparently, she’d gone out for coffee as soon as she’d realised ‘she was alone’.

Dan sighed and let his muscles relax into the hard seats of the London cab.

After a long and quiet journey, the cab pulled up in front of Dan’s house.  
"I can pay this time," Dan sighed in Phil's direction, "it's only fair."  
Phil jerked his head up and looked at him. His eyes were half closed and his usually neat hair was ruffled up in a wild mane of sleepiness. "No no," Phil shook his head, "everything's on me." He smiled at him and his eyes lit up for a brief moment. Over their quiet murmurs a distant sound of a car door opening and closing could be heard. Phil looked out the window in a blink with his eyes. "But Dan," he looked up at Dan again, "promise me you'll try to figure something out?"  
Dan cracked a smile. "I'll talk to her.”

When Dan walked away from the car, he looked timidly over his shoulder to see the black cab pull out of his drive, two big goggles watching him from the window with an ardent stare. When he entered the hallway, there was already a mush of hushed voices coming from the 1st floor. Without thinking, he found the marble blue mirror hanging lonely at the end of the empty hallway. The boy in front of him looked familiar; his smile was paltry, like a cake that had been forgotten about and had gone dry; his eyes were blank, like a baby deer. He tugged his arms around him, a sudden coldness engulfing him in his pensive of thoughts. He instinctively reached for his phone in his pocket, the hard glass sleek and empty in his hand. He didn't have many contacts in his phone. His mum and Amy, a few boys from his old school he didn't talk to anymore, his aunt Dorothy, who only called when she needed help with her computer, and his dad. Rephrasing: he had no contacts in his phone. Suddenly, his thoughts were awoken by a loud sound of skin touching skin, followed by a screeching whimper. Dan froze. There was a soft howling sound, not quite silent enough for Dan to dismiss it, and then the smashing of a door and small, loud thuds of someone walking down the stairs. Dan didn’t move, but watched as the expression in the mirror became less tired, and more vivid. He gulped as the thuds became louder and louder. Before he knew of it, the lank figure of his mother was standing in the doorway, her rear rank and her head held high.  
“Hello Daniel," she said, "welcome home."  
"Thanks Mum."  
"Do you want me to make you a cup of tea?"  
"No thanks Mum-" he gulped, "I'm going to my room." She gave him a stiff nod, then slandered into the living room. Dan went quickly to the kitchen to grab what he needed before going upstairs with fast, solemn steps. But when he got upstairs, he went straight past his own room, and into Amy's.

Amy’s room was very clean; she had a bookshelf with various Young Adult novels and a ton of biographies, all organised in category and alphabetical order. On her desk she had nothing but a pencil case, a vase with the English flag, and her laptop. Her walls were covered in old family photos that looked as if they had been taken in the 19th century, and several oil paintings of red poppies in green fields. Despite having moved in only weeks previously, there was nothing on her floor; not a single sock, not a single piece of stray paper, no forgotten make-up; nothing. Amy herself was crouching on the ground, her bare feet tugged underneath her thighs and her head in her hands.  
“I don’t want your pity!” She said through a muffled voice, though with a certain, shaky determination.  
“Do you want my ice then?” Dan held up the bag of frozen peas before throwing it towards her. She looked up at him. Her eyes were wide, covered messily in mascara and the brown had turned glassy. The skin around on her cheeks and around her eyes looked red and rugged, and there was a red hand-mark burning across the left side of her face. She took the bag with a snide look in her eyes, but placed it neatly on the mark with a relieved tug of her lips. Dan sat down next to her, careful not to make any undesired movement. She instantly rested her head on his shoulder, her slack curls tickling the bare skin underneath his collarbones.  
"I think I have a solution," Dan whispered. He started stroking her hair, and she cuddled an inch closer.  
"Tell me," she said, her voice croaky.  
"If you date Phil," he started, but was fast interrupted by a loud groan. Amy sat up, her eyes now less glassy and less soft. The bag of peas on her head made her look comical, but Dan didn't dare laugh.  
"That's what I'm trying to avoid," she snapped.  
"You didn't let me finish speaking," he snapped back, "I didn't mean like actual dating." She raised her eyebrows, her deformed face looking oddly like a Greek statue. "Pretend to date, is what I mean."  
“Does that still involve dating him?” She questioned.  
“Yeah I mean,” Dan bit his lip as Amy sent him a pair of unwelcoming eyes, “dating as friends. Doing friend stuff. Not dating stuff. Just stuff. Though tell Mum you’re dating.”  
She looked thoughtful for a moment; as if her thoughts had widened in the last few seconds.  
"How will that benefit me?"  
"Well," Dan paused, "you'll get Mum off your back. And cheek."  
She let her hand gently brush over the hand mark on her face, that was now losing its burning red colour. "I don't think it's worth it," she said, "I don't want her to think she owns me."  
"Well she doesn't own you," Dan said loudly, "if you pretend to go out with Phil-"  
"By going out with Phil? That makes no sense!"  
"Why are you so stubborn Amy?" He groaned, putting his head in his hands.  
"Why are you so cross with me?"  
"Because you're so rude," he yelled, "why did you have to leave today? You should have seen his face. He felt so betrayed."  
"I don't want a relationship Dan. I don't care if he turned out to be Prince Charming! I won't do it."  
"Phil doesn't want that either - he just wants a friend, and look who hasn't got any friends." He pointed a swaying hand at her.  
"You haven't got any friends either," she scuffed.  
"This isn't about me."  
"Then who is it about?" She snapped, "Phil?"  
Dan hesitated, "well partly-"  
"If he's such a nice guy, Dan," Amy said exasperated, "why don't you date him yourself?"  
Dan’s stomach did a flip. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he snared.  
“Actually,” her eyes lit up and she raised her chin, “if _you_ date him, but tell Mum that _I’m_ the one dating him, everyone will be happy!”  
“But-” Dan started, but was stopped by a pair of fingers straddling his lips.  
“Shh,” Amy said, “it’s perfect! I’ll get a free evening a few times a month, and Phil will get a fake girlfriend.” She clasped her hands together and made an exaggerated grunting noise.  
A tight knot had formed in Dan’s stomach now; him going on a date with Phil Lester was undeniably terrifying. “I don’t think that’s gonna work,” he stated.  
“Argh come on dude,” she said, shaking his shoulders lightly, “we’ll just be extra careful. You started this, I’m ending this and saying we do this.”

*

Over the last week of the holidays, Dan got a habit of walking. He walked down the block, exploring his new territory and trying to find anything that would make it less depressing to look at. The houses didn't look much different from any other houses in England, but the spooky atmosphere made them feel different somehow. He took a different route every day, but somehow, he always ended up walking past the big house with the bright blue post box and the pretty flower beds. He always stopped there, hiding behind a lamppost and staring discreetly at the house. Nobody was ever out in the front, and there was no car. Yet, the light was on in the evenings and the windows were always open. He'd had the urge to knock a few times, but the image of the eager plump woman scared him away.

*

Dan walked to school with a sore smile on his face. The sun was blinding him, and the little number on the watch on his phone was biting into him. He had spent his night turning and twisting in his sleep, trying to sleep with his eyes open and his night light out. For Dan, being alone in the darkness was like an open invitation for demons to come tear his head open and lurk around in his every vein and stamp on his every bone. They put things in his head; dark images of silhouettes screaming, and the sound of a neck cracking as the bottom of the gallow was opened. Sometimes it happened in his old garage, sometimes in his old room, and sometimes the face was recognisable. He shuddered and hid his dream in the back of his head, focusing instead on the figure in front of him, striding along in a profound march. Amy had tied her long hair in a tight ponytail and her uniform - consisting of a white shirt with a red tie and a grey skirt - sat neatly and well kept on her body. Dan looked down on his own knee-short, loose jeans and messy Donnie Darko t-shirt and huffed irkingly.

Phil wasn't there when they first entered the school. Not that Dan was looking for him, he was just observing. People of all ages were standing together in clutches in the school yard, colours of black, white, grey and red dominating the entire setting. He left Amy in the battlefield of secondary schoolers, and searched any empty spots for _anyone_ that looked remotely different from the school uniformity, before realising he was allowed to enter the building.

Dan didn't see Phil for the first part of the day. He had English fourth period, and the thought had nagged him all day. Law was as boring as ever and Drama wasn't nearly as exciting as he had anticipated.  
It turned out they didn’t have English together after all, as Phil had gone with the intellectual English Language class, and Dan had chosen to dwell away from reality in the English Literature class. When he entered the classroom, he was met with four girls, all chatting eagerly in a little group. None of them shared a glance when he walked in, so his awkward little wave became an itching neck. When he walked past them to the inviting seat behind them, one of them took notice of him and broke the conversation.  
"Hey," she said eagerly, "are you new?"  
"Yeah," Dan croaked, "I'm Dan."  
“Sit down Dan,” she said kindly and turned around eagerly to continue the conversation.  
“There’s a booming number of new kids this year, isn’t there?” another one of them said.  
“Yeah,” the third one laughed, “I guess loads of people from last year went to college instead.”  
“Oh my god,” the fourth one interrupted, "have you guys seen Lester?" Dan averted his attention immediately, at looked up at the four girls.  
“What about him?” one of them asked.  
“He’s become so attractive,” she beamed.  
"Are you serious?"  
"Yeah!" She leaned in closer, "he's even dyed his hair black. He's grown like a foot!"  
“Well, “ another one started, “I guess we always _kind of_ knew he had it in him.”  
"Do you remember him last year?" one of them giggled.  
“Yeah,” someone said, “he edited pictures of that Buffy actress onto pictures of himself, didn’t he?” They all laughed loudly, starting to mention the many other embarrassing things people had done in their previous year. Meanwhile, Dan hid a small smile under his hand, trying to get rid of the image of Phil in a picture with a TV character.  
By the time the teacher had arrived, Dan had learned that Callum and Jessica had broken up, Ben had had sex with six girls at the same party, and Alice had probably gotten pregnant and that was why she had dropped out. Meanwhile, he had gained plenty of new information about Phil. Such as, his hair used to be light brown, he had once done an entire science project on the subject of animal sex, and he had been involved in a rumour about getting a boner in PE.

It was at lunch that Dan finally found Phil. He had looked through _every_ common room in the sixth form building, only to find Phil sat outside in a little creak in the wall. If he hadn’t searched absolutely every part of the small area that kept the sixth formers separated from the lower school, he would have never been able to find him. He was deeply engulfed in a book with a vivid, red cover, when he silently slipped up to him and threw himself in the cramped space next to him. Phil did a little jump and gave a squeak when Dan whispered a ‘boo’ in his ears.  
“Hey,” he said.  
“Don’t freak me out like that,” Phil gasped. His voice had gone high-pierced and shrilly. It was endearing.  
“Sorry,” Dan snickered, “it was a temptation I couldn’t resist.” He almost winked, but _that_ was a temptation he _had_ to resist. Dan studied Phil’s profile as he fixed up his hair. It looked different, somehow; his soft quiff was no longer pushed to the side, but was instead styled in a long fringe, covering almost half his face. Surprisingly, his clothing was also different; he wasn’t wearing any fancy shirts perfected up until the last detail, but a colourful t-shirt with a picture of an obscure animation on it.  
“So how was your day?” Phil asked as he’d adjusted his hair. “I missed you in English.”  
Dan chuckled, feeling his hands become sweaty. “I missed you too,” he said with a small voice. Then he breathed out, clutched his hands together in fists, and looking up with a smile. “So, aren’t you gonna introduce me to your friends?”  
Phil let out a light laugh. “What friends?” He asked, “I mean sometimes there’s a cat here. It’s friendly. I’m allergic though.”  
“The girls seem impressed by you,” Dan noted, “I’m pretty sure you’d be able to get a girlfriend without my help.”  
“Which girls?”  
“I dunno, all of them,” Dan shrugged, “the ones in my English class spoke very highly of you.”  
Phil chuckled. “Nah, they’re not my type.”  
“How picky of you,” Dan smiled, “anyway it’s alright, erm, I’ve - I mean Amy’s got a plan.” He felt his cheeks heating and something turning in his stomach. Probably the sun.  
“Really?” Phil’s eyes lit up.  
“Yeah. But it’s not really what you had in mind,” he paused, letting in a deep breath. “Basically, Amy agrees to telling our mum that you guys are dating,” Phil’s smile was widening in the corner of Dan’s eyes. “But there’s a twist: she doesn’t want to do the actual dating. So basically,” he repeated himself, “she wants someone else to do the dating part, but she wants the credit for it, y’know?”  
“Yeah,” Phil said uncertainly, looking at Dan with an interest. “Who has she got in mind?”  
“Uh,” Dan muttered, “me, basically.”  
Phil wasn’t looking at Dan anymore, but had his gaze fixed on a yellow buttercup standing in a patch of grass before him. “And you’re agreeing to that?”  
“Well, yeah-” Dan hesitated, “why wouldn’t I?”  
“How does it benefit you?”  
_‘I get to spend time with you,’_ he thought to himself. He let his bottom lip roll through his teeth, once, twice, before he kept it in a permanent grasp. “Maybe it doesn’t have to benefit me. I get a new friend,” he shrugged, “unless, of course, you don’t want to do it?”  
“No, uh, no,” Phil said quickly, turning around to face him once again. There was an unsure look on his face, as if the proposal had surprised him. “I’m totally up for it.”  
“Great, “ Dan said, “it’s a date then, I guess?”  
“It’s a date,” Phil grinned sheepishly, blowing his fringe out of his face. “Then, as you are now my official date stand-in, I require your phone number.” He smirked up at him, and Dan’s stomach gave a jolt Phil hopefully didn’t hear. He handed him his phone with a wink, and felt his head blur for a moment as Phil took hold of it. This entire conversation had been a blur, a chest of buzz and dazzle opening in his head, stretching his vision and narrowing the view. At least, though, now he had an actual contact in his phone.


	5. Chapter 5

                                    

 

Dan stood alone. The people around him were busying everywhere; running inside and out of the little Tube station like panicked ants trying to find their way through a picnic. He saw a woman with three children hanging on her, following her quick steps with much turmoil. He looked at his watch. Ten past two. He had been standing there for about 15 minutes, watching as the station got emptier and emptier. Amy had left him pretty quickly, after having explained her perfectly organised plan at least twice.  
"Okay, so the agreement is," she had told him, "the date will last only two hours. We will meet at the tube station at exactly 16:00, and from there we'll all three go home, where you will go in first and Phil will bring me to the door. Got it?"  
"Got it," he had said.  
He sighed, leaning against the cool wall and letting his head rest. Before he could dwell into a delusional daydream, there was a voice in front of him  
“Dan!” it yelled, and he looked up expectantly. Phil was running towards him, a little bag in his hand and his hair flying to all sides. “I’m sorry I’m late,” he panted, “my mum insisted on ironing my shirt before I went.” He shrugged helplessly, and Dan grinned at him. His shirt did look nice; it was dark blue and the short sleeves made the paleness of his arms evident. As he looked up at Phil, he noticed how it brought out the colour of his eyes.  
“It’s okay,” Dan uttered, straightening himself up from the concave Tube wall and brushing his hands off in his jeans. “Shall we?”

They had no plans for the ‘date’. That was the only thing Amy had not bothered accounting for, and instead she’d claimed that Dan was perfectly able to make up something romantic she could later tell their mum about. Except Dan was clueless. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t romantic at all, it was just the fact that he had to carry out his romantic fantasies to the tall man walking beside him. What would Phil say if Dan took him to a fancy restaurant with champagne and rose pallets? Or rent a boat to splash around in the lake in Hyde Park? Just the thought of a rejective frown placed on Phil’s face was enough to make his stomach turn inwards. What he was really looking for was something generic, but sweet. The London Eye was crowded with people. The parks were filled with kids. It was too warm to go to the cinema.  
“So um Phil,” Dan said awkwardly, “how romantic are you?”  
Phil chuckled, looked down for a moment, a grin placed on his lips, and smirked up at him. “Well,” he said, “once in infant school I gave this girl a bird fetus.”  
“Ew, Phil,” Dan cringed, “that’s disgusting!”  
“That’s what she said!” He laughed. Dan almost face-palmed himself.  
“If that’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever done for anyone,” Dan started, “I suppose I’ll have to figure out date ideas.” He sighed and gave Phil a look of pure disappointment, which he returned with a pout. It made him look like a cute puppy, and Dan had to hide his grin.

They decided that walking was the most convenient option. Just by walking through London for half an hour, Dan learned that Phil’s favourite food was cereal and sushi, he secretly thought tartan would become the new fashion trend, and he hated cheese and bananas. However, he also learned that he’d once joined the chess club to get into someone’s pants, and that one of his biggest desires was to make Dan watch a horror film with him to see how much he’d scream.  
They were walking down a street in the midst of Mayfair, the sun gently caressing their skin and warming their cheeks. The old buildings were littered in gleaming sunshine, setting a beautiful old-esque summer devour on the otherwise cold architecture. Phil had bought a packet of crisps, which they were ardently sharing between them.  
“I cannot believe you’d think that I would scream at horror films,” Dan said, his mouth full of the taste of crunchy barbecue.  
“You just seem the type-” Phil laughed, “I bet you at least scream a little bit.”  
“That is so a challenge I’m up for,” Dan said, “should that be our next adventure?”

But Phil had stopped in his tracks. Dan turned around and went back to him. There was a focused look in his eyes; he was looking at a hotel on the opposite side of the road. Suddenly, he swung around and nailed Dan against the brick wall behind them. The sun had lain its warmth on it, and it had a pleasant temperature. Not as pleasant though, as the body clamped around him. Phil’s elbows were resting against the wall, his arms incarcerating Dan between them. His face was very close to his; he could feel his short breaths against his neck, as his forehead was pressed against the wall, with his soft hair tingling Dan’s temple. Their chests were touching each other lightly, and Dan didn’t know what to do with his hands. Phil was warmer than the rugged bricks against his back. Dan inhaled slowly, taking in Phil’s every scent. Up close, he smelt faintly of strawberry and lemon, just like the sweets his father had always bought them when he knew their mother wasn’t home. Dan shook off the thought, and focused instead on the man around him. He could hear his ragged breath loudly next to his ear, and feel his speeding heart-beat through his tight shirt.  
“Phil,” Dan whispered, “are you okay?” He was tempted to wrap his arm around his waist and pad his back, but the tight knot in his stomach prevented his arm from moving.  
Phil opened his eyes. "That is my dad in that car over there," he whispered, "he can't see me with you. He'll know." Dan looked up at the hotel. Indeed, a man had just stepped out of a black car in the front, and he was now helping out another person. Dan squinted his eyes. It was a tall woman, wearing a red jacket and a black hat. Her move out of the car was graceful, and the man took her arm in his, and led them towards the entrance of the hotel. Before stepping inside, he turned his head first left, then right, stretching his neck far out as if to cover every corner on the street. When his eyes met the two of them, they lingered for a while, before dismissing them and turning to talk to a piccolo next to them.  
“Phil,” Dan whispered, “who’s the woman?” She was now fidgeting with something in her bag, leaving the two men to talk without her.  
“What woman?” Phil asked. Dan felt the muscle in the arms surrounding him flex up, and Phil moved an inch closer. He turned around just to see the man kiss her on the cheek, before entering the hotel. “What?” He gasped. He stood there for a moment, his muscles in his back clearly visible. Dan held out a hand to hold around his back, but hesitated. They were still standing closely together, but Phil’s mind was somewhere else, and his eyes were stinging into the tall, glittering building before them.  
“Phil,” Dan whispered again, stepping closer to him so that they were side by side. His arm was dangling at his side, as if neglected. Dan took it, felt his own rough structure collide with Phil’s soft, warm palm. It was slightly sweaty. “It’s alright.”  
“That man,” Phil hissed. He clenched his hands together, and Dan felt the hard squeeze in his wrist. “Is a fucking bastard.”  
Dan drew in a breath. “Let’s go home,” he took a step aside and tugged Phil with him.  
They didn’t talk all the way back to the station, and when Amy arrived to meet them, an awkward silence was present.


	6. Chapter 6

                             

 

As September advanced, they went on more and more dates. It turned into a routine; a certain consistency that was part of their lives. Phil would plan out a day to tell his parents, they would then call Dan's mum and give Amy the good news. It was a reliable system, which allowed them all a freedom. Usually, their dates consisted of a movie, and then coffee. When there were no new movies to watch, they went to a much more deluded library or study cafe to do their homework together.  
Phil never mentioned the incident in the deluded London area, with the opulent hotel and the groovy woman. When he had met Dan in school, everything had been back to normal.  
Sometimes Phil would come to their house, a bouquet of roses in his arms, and greet Amy. Day after day, Dan listened to his mother gushing over the beautiful boy living down the street. She told her hairdresser, she told the plumber, she told the ladies she played bridge with every Sunday, she told everyone who cared enough to listen how wonderful it was to have such a perfect son-in-law. Every time Phil was mentioned in their household, Dan had to hide his face. It wasn’t a big deal, just a little, insignificant blush, that always crept on his cheeks when he thought of him. Sometimes, he liked to think they were dating. It felt like it, every time they went out. At night, before sleep caught up with him, he fantasised about their dates. He made them last longer, he made them sweeter. He made Phil hold his hand when they walked together; a warm, soft, palm he could trace his fingers against. He made Phil’s compliments real; common phrases like, _‘that shirt brings out the colour of your eyes,’_ or _‘your hair looks nice curly’_ , he enchanted, made them his own little secret delirious delusions. They sounded better like _‘that shirt makes the colour of your eyes look ravishing,’_ and _‘I really want to feel your curls against my hands, and cheeks, and thighs’_. Then he stopped, shook his head, and fell asleep. When he slept with Phil on his mind, his dreams weren’t dark and foggy. There were no screams or gallows in garages or blood on his bedsheets. He did, however, wake up with dripping sweat on his forehead and a pleasant pain between his legs.

One chill day in October, Phil had taken Dan to the Alexandra Palace ice skating rink. Dan wasn’t a much experienced ice skater, and apparently, neither was Phil. He had claimed that the whole ‘holding hands while skating’ thing was an unconditionally romantic story to tell people. Spending half the time clinging on to the fence and testing the ice with their butts weren’t really that romantic though, and the ice rink experience was replaced by yet another stroll through the cozy streets of the English capital. London was edging closer and closer to the Christmas atmosphere it usually held in the seasonal months, yet there was no actual festivity present. Instead, the atmosphere was spiced by winds of cinnamon coming from every stall they went past, and the sticky sweetness of toffee apples followed them like the bright colours of fallen leaves. The cold air made Phil’s cheeks look small and pink, and when he laughed, they looked sweeter and sweeter and Dan’s body got warmer and warmer. When the autumn weather finally showed itself, and a stream of cold rain washed over the city, Dan and Phil had to flee into a small café.

Pumpkin spiced lattes were appropriate, and they quickly found themselves sitting closely together in a cozy sofa in a secluded corner. They mostly drank their coffees in silence, Dan using every opportunity he could get to sneak glances at Phil’s fresh smile, his cheeks hottened by the contrast of the windy London air and the warm atmosphere. Phil sat looking around at the people chatting and chillin’ at the small tables in the shop. There was a particular young couple with a little kid Phil seemed to have his eyes on. The kid was crawling on their mother’s lap, bumping up and down to try and get her attention. Her left hand was holding the little size around their waist, while her other hand was stirring the coffee on the table. The man was looking at the two with a captivated smile, bigger than even the child’s excitement. Dan looked up at Phil again, and saw that his smile had faltered, and he wasn’t touching his coffee.  
“Phil,” Dan said, “are you all right?”  
Phil snapped his head up and looked at Dan as if he had forgotten he was there. “I dunno,” he growled. Then he looked down again.  
“You can talk to me if you want,” Dan smiled, “I’m here. “  
A smile tugged on his lips. “Yeah I know,” he said, “thanks.”  
Dan smiled wider in reply, and laid a supportive hand on his shoulder, tracing small patterns with his thumb. Phil stirred motionless and swallowed. “It’s just that,” he started, “I think my parents are getting a divorce.”  
“Oh,” Dan said. His hand went still. “I’m sorry.”  
“Yeah, it’s alright though,” he muttered, “it’s probably better this way.”  
“Hey,” Dan said softly, moving his hand from his shoulder to Phil’s hand lying frozen on the table. It was burning hot, and Dan took it in his, squeezing it a bit to make Phil smile. “Maybe it won’t be that bad.”  
“Yeah I know,” Phil said. He did smile a bit now. “My mum’s quite upset though, and there will be loads of nights in the next few weeks where I’ll be completely alone.” He shrugged and looked away again.  
“Look at it on the bright side then,” Dan beamed, “you can have loads of video game and film marathons with sleepovers and stuff!”  
“I guess that’s true,” Phil said, his smile growing into a grin. “Would you be my guest?”  
“Of course,” Dan smirked, _as if that hadn’t been what he was hinting at._ “It’ll be awesome!”  
“Great then,” Phil chuckled. His eyes shifted from Dan to their intertwined hands on the table. All of a sudden it started to burn; in the tip of his fingers, in his cheeks and in the palm of his hand. Phil’s eyes had erupted a fire in his limbs, and if he didn’t do anything soon, he’d probably start crying. He removed his hands subtly to take a sip of his coffee, and Phil drew his hand back. The coffee almost burned his tongue.

Their conversation stopped again, and they sat together in silence. Dan stopped sneaking glances up at Phil, and instead sat thinking about all their previous conversation, trying to dig something up he could talk to him about. When they had both finished their coffees, neither gave off any signs of wanting to leave. The rain outside had gotten worse, and Phil’s smile had somehow gotten even more alluring.  
“Hey Phil,” Dan asked suddenly, “can I ask you something quite personal?”  
“Yeah sure,” Phil replied, his eyebrows lifted.  
“What is your type?”  
“My type?” Phil asked confused. “What do you mean?”  
“Like,” Dan said, his cheeks heating up. “When you said my sister wasn’t your type. And then the girls in my English class. It made you sound a bit picky,” he laughed hesitantly, giving Phil a shy look.  
“Oh,” he said, “I didn’t mean to sound picky. They just aren’t my type. Er…” he put his elbow on the table and leaned on it, his fingers engulfed in his hair.  
“What is your type then?”  
Phil went silent for a moment, but his eyes didn’t waver from Dan’s, only sustained it longer. They were darker than usual in the dim lighting of the room, and they gave Dan a crippling feeling from his neck to the tips of his toes. His prolonged stare captivated Dan in a web of wonder, as if Phil wanted his eyes to speak the words his mouth couldn’t articulate.  
“It’s actually a secret,” he said. This time, his voice was hushed, and Dan had to lean closer to hear what he said.  
“Oh,” he uttered. He broke the stare. There was not a big line between being curious and being invasive, and it seemed like Dan had crossed it.  
“I would tell you,” Phil smirked, his voice still merely but a whisper, “if you tell me a secret of yours.”  
“Are you serious?” Dan giggled. But Phil didn’t say a word; he just kept their gaze. “Umm,” he started. Everything embarrassing he’d said throughout his life came washing through his mind all at once. It was like a quiz wheel inside his head, spinning around from his ears to his nose, throbbing on everything. There were pink spaces containing secret crushes and dark spaces containing melancholic memories of his father. There were enough lies he had told, disguises he had made, but nothing exciting; nothing worth hiding in a box to send to the future, or tell an attractive man, completely mesmerised by his every word.  
"I can recite the entirety of Romeo and Juliet," he blurted out.  
“What?” Phil spluttered. “I don’t believe you!”  
“It’s true,” Dan defended, “I told you I liked Drama!”  
“You can’t just say things like that without showing me, you know that right?” Phil smirked.  
“No,” Dan exclaimed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m not doing that. “  
“You have to or I won’t tell you my secret,” Phil said. His entire face was a big grin as he wiggled his eyebrows up and down, yet there was a vague tint of dark grey hiding in the corners of his mouth. Dan looked around in the coffee shop. There were people everywhere.  
“I’m not doing it here,” Dan said, “but maybe later, okay?”  
"Okay, well," Phil said. His smile faltered, and his fresh, pink cheeks turned a ferocious pale. "I don't, like, have a type, I just have, like, one criteria for people I can get attracted to." He paused for a moment. Dan examined him; his hands were fiddling with a serviette on the table, stroking it in long, seductive moves. His fingers were long and slim; perfect for playing the piano and handling other, more sensitive things. His breath got caught in his throat.  
"Like what?”  
“Like… not girls, y’know?” Phil stuttered.  
Dan felt his stomach drop. An uncomfortable feeling in his chest arose, and his hands felt clammy. His mind went blank. The opposite of _‘not girls’_ was _‘boys’_. Dan was a boy. All limitations were broken, all restraints uncaged. All dark secrets brightened by the beautiful man sitting next to him. The uncomfortable feeling got warmer, as if Phil was the glow that had ignited the flame inside him.  
“Dan, please say something,” Phil said, his voice shaking, “I’ve never come out to anyone who wasn’t gay before, I-”  
“Shh,” Dan said. Phil’s hand shook erratically when he covered it with his; it was warm and sweaty. “It’s okay.”  
Phil relaxed his body and his hand became still underneath his. Dan pulled away; the air between them was thicker than the mist of coffee steam that hung in the furniture around them. Dan coughed awkwardly and sat back in his seat.  
“Did you still wanna do that film marathon?” Phil asked suddenly. “I can understand it if you don’t.” The ecstatic energy and alluring atmosphere that had been present in his voice all day had disappeared, and had now been replaced by a monotone.  
“Of course I do!” Dan exclaimed. “This won’t change anything, you know?” He cracked a smile at his lie. “Come here.”  
Phil’s big blue eyes flared as he rested his head on Dan’s shoulder; his hair was soft against his neck. Dan closed his eyes and let Phil’s body radiate all its warmth onto his skin. Once he relaxed the muscles in his face, a wide grin appeared, only to get nuzzled into Phil’s hair.  
“I can feel you laughing,” Phil chuckled and tilted his head upwards so that their eyes were connected. They were darker than before, but not less blue, and his smile was wider than he had seen it. He was reminded of a cartoon with a smiling moon surrounded by midnight blue, and let out a giggle. “What’s so funny?”  
“Nothing,” Dan beamed. Phil turned around so that they were sat closely, face to face. Dan widened his smile and leaned in slowly, the space between them inching closer to being non-existent. Phil’s grin had faltered, and his eyes were directed towards Dan’s lips. He closed his eyes.  
_Ring!_  
His eyes shot open and he sat back, listening to where the noise was coming from.  
_Ring! Ring!_  
“Dan it’s your phone,” Phil laughed.  
Dan quickly went for his back pocket, fidgeting with his phone before answering.  
“What do you want?”  
_“Well hello to you too_ ,” Amy said in the other end of the line. _“Am I interrupting something important or are you just being a dick?”_  
He looked up at Phil’s round lips again.  
“No you weren’t,” he sighed, “what’s up?”  
_“I’m done with my things, and it’s raining pretty badly, so I was thinking we could just call it a day?”_  
“All right,” Dan sighed again, “we’ll be there shortly.”

*

When Phil kissed Amy on the cheek that evening, in the front garden, surrounded by dewy roses, underneath their shared umbrella, Dan had a knot in his stomach.


	7. Chapter 7

                           

 

It was the familiar tingle in the lower part of his body that woke him up. It had happened a lot lately. His forehead was sweaty and thinking about touching himself made him want to groan. Slowly and carefully, he slipped his left hand underneath his boxers. In that night's fantasy, Phil had been plastered underneath him, his fringe pulled back with sweat dripping down his forehead, an intense look of bliss on his face. Dan started stroking himself in long, slow moves. Their conversation from yesterday, unwillingly engraved in his mind, was what had driven his steamy thoughts forward the night before. He stroked more firmly. _Not girls. Boys_. A little faster. _Phil's voice going 'it's a secret'_. Smaller strokes. _Their chests close together_. A quick tease on his slit. _Big eyes of blue opening up in ecstasy, the black fringe pushed back and every detail of his body revealed._ His breath sped up. _Phil's hands, stroking, touching him_. Harder, faster. _Wet lips on his chest, on his neck, on his torso, between his thighs._ He jerked his hips up in his hand. _Phil's husky voice, moaning Dan’s name, whimpering under his touch_. He unclenched his free hand, and quickly stuck two fingers into his open mouth, sucking on them erratically. _Phil’s neck exposed, back arching under him._ "Phil," he moaned quietly. He moved his slick fingers towards his rim and started circling it, teasing himself. _Phil’s long fingers curling inside him._ Dan slipped one finger inside, massaging the sensitive walls and thrusting his hips against it. _Phil's pink lips, opening up in bliss._ Dan moaned and twisted his left hand, losing control over his quick strokes. Ignoring the pain the friction inside him had caused, his finger curled upwards, and he hastily popped in a second one, feeling the tightness in the lower part of his stomach coming to a release. With another hard thrust of his fingers, the white liquid shot out of him. His moan got stuck in his throat, and he let his head fall backwards onto his pillow, loosening the grip on his cock and relaxing into his bedsheets. _'Not girls, y'know'._ Then he dozed off to sleep again.

*  
Sunday mornings were the best mornings. The mild October sun broke its way into Dan’s room, brightening up the dim lighting and bathing his naked stomach in warmth. The wind was quiet and the sky was blue, yet something was bothering him. The fresh green leaves that had decorated the town in the summer were now covering the ground in orange and brown sheets. The house with the blue post box and the pretty flowerbeds stood out to him every time he looked out the window, as if it were the only house on the street, calling for him even when he did not need it.  
When he went down stairs, the floor boards creaked and the grandfather clock in the hallway clanged loudly. He quickly found Amy, sitting gingerly by the large bookshelf, a big, venerable book in her hand which she was studying carefully. She looked up and greeted him when he walked in, but her grip tightened around the spectacular book, and her eyes weren't focused on him.  
"Morning," he said, "what are you looking at?"  
"Nothing," she replied simply.  
"Doesn't look like nothing."  
"Doesn't look like your business," she snapped back at him.  
He sat down on the couch. He couldn’t see Amy’s face from there. Her long hair was covering it up like the thick curtains that his mother enjoyed drawing and closing at random times during the day. It seemed to be a common custom to close the curtains at the oddest times on this street. Every house had frilly, light curtains with a lively pattern, and they were all drawn in the morning, when everyone walked past to enjoy the early sun. Yet in the afternoon, they were usually all closed. It would be a freeing change to draw them; but would removing a beautiful, thick cover be a relief, or would the quick pull of the plaster end up a horrific burden, where a burn would be inevitable?

"Amy," Dan said, "do you think it's important to be honest with your life?”  
Amy looked up from her book and tilted her head towards him. Her brown fierce eyes looked up at him in confusion. “Yeah I do believe that.”  
“You do?” He looked down and fiddled with the white frills on the pillow next to him. It was pretty, yet had a disgusting resemblance to strangled puppies with pink bows.  
“Of course I do,” she sat up straighter, “why? Are you suggesting we shouldn’t fool around with Phil and let Mum imprison us forever?”  
Dan quirked his eyebrows at her wording. They weren’t _fooling around_ with Phil, surely. “No not at all.”  
“Then what’s on your mind?”  
The pretty pillow started to look less like a puppy and more like a kid hyena, strangled and screaming. He looked away from it and fixed his gaze on Amy, who was now sitting cross legged with the book tossed aside.  
“Should we conform to the rules?” He said. “Like, should we change ourselves to get away from all this?” He nodded towards the pillow. “Remove all secrets and lies and deception from our lives?”  
Amy looked thoughtful for a moment. Her hair was drawn away from her face now, and she was leaning back on her hands. Her gaze was turned towards the closed window, but there was a distant look in her eyes.  
“I think we should always be ourselves, even when Mum tells us to act like we’re her porcelain puppets,” she looked at him, her eyes lingering, “but Dan, some things are meant to be kept a secret.” Then she looked away again.  
Dan hummed, waiting for her to elaborate, but she never did. She kept staring out the window, changing her glance every so often to the book spread out beside her. The window didn’t hold a great view; you could see a limited portion of the street, the street lights, and the garden opposite their house. Only from Dan’s room was it possible to scan most of the street, including the house with the blue post box and the pretty flowerbeds.  
“Can I ask you something?” Dan broke the silence. He got up from the couch, taking small strides to get to her, and sat down in a cramped position opposite her, away from the book lying open. Amy looked up at him, an unchanged look in her eyes. She nodded.  
Dan hold his breath. “Have you ever been in love?”  
Amy furrowed her brow and looked at him for an achingly long minute. He breathed out and let his shoulders relax, closing his eyes and gulping. When he opened them up, he was met with a pair of happy, crinkling, shiny eyes, laughing at him. Amy held her hand against her mouth, letting out short snorts of laughter, her chest moving up and down in a cheery pace.  
“What are you laughing at?” He shoved her lightly and she fell backwards.  
“You,” she let out between breaths, “asking me that.”  
Her cheeks were flushed red and her lips were wide when she removed her hand and recollected herself.  
“Don’t laugh at me!” Dan snapped. "It's a serious question."  
"You know I've never been in love Dan," she smiled. “So why did you ask?”  
“No reason,” he blurted out and looked away. Streaks of sun were visible through the thick curtains to his left. He bit his lip. “I’m just curious.”  
There was a pause in the conversation. The grandfather clock in the hallway was loud enough to fill the silence of the room with its systematic ticks that chimed with old age. Collections of dust lay unnoticed on the many books stood on the bookshelf. His eyes caught Amy's again. Her eyebrows were raised and a smirk was playing on her lips.  
"Ok, fine," Dan hissed. He squinted his eyes together hard, ignoring the deep brown eyes stinging into his every move. "My point is, how would you know?"  
She didn't respond immediately, and the antique clock filled the silence once more. When he opened his eyes, he was met with a pair of curious brown orbs and a smirk thick it would have to be dried off with soap.  
"Know what?" She said.  
Dan sighed and gave her a stern look "If you’ve ever been in love. I mean what does it feel like - does your heart beat faster? Do you dream about them? Do you think about them all the time? Is that all it takes?”  
He looked up at her with an exasperated sigh. Her eyes were knowing, and the pink blush was evident on his cheeks.  
“Dan, are you crushing on anyone?”  
“No,” Dan said defensively. “I’m just curious.”  
“Okay” she winked.  
“Shut up I’m not crushing on anyone!” he gently shoved her again, blushing more furiously as she grinned at him.  
“I was just thinking,” he averted his gaze. “Do you think Mum and Dad were in love?”  
“I’m sure that’s what you were thinking," she teased and sat up again.  
“Drop it,” he said sternly. “But seriously, do you think they were?”  
“I don’t know Dan. They sure didn’t look like it. Not even before, you know, the thing." Silence ensued, and both of them sat looking out in the distance.  
"There was a certain tension, you know?" Dan said after a while. "Like some invisible hands only they could see were breaking them apart, slowly and agonisingly."  
Amy winced besides him and her face broke into a frown. Carefully, she retracted her hand from the floor and rested it on the pocket just above her chest. Her face was paler than it had been all summer, and her mouth was stretched out in a thin line.  
"Or you know, maybe love is different from them than it is for us," she said. Her voice was low and her resting hand was fiddling with something. "Um, I should show you something Dan." She looked up at him, her eyes blinking vividly. The thick air between them made him shudder, and it wasn’t even that cold. He gave her a questioning look as she opened her chest pocket and drew out a piece of worn out paper. It wasn’t scribbled together, but had visible cracks in the edges because it had been bend a lot. She scooted closer to him, so they sat next to each other, shoulders bumping and legs crossing.  
“Look at this,” she whispered and turned the little piece of paper around. It wasn’t a note, but a picture. The quality was orangey and white cracks aged the nature of it.  
The picture resembled a man standing in front of an old bike on a dusty, rugged road. He was young-looking, and dressed in a khaki green uniform, with a hat and big boots. The uniform was plastered with medals and flags, and he had a big grin on his face. The acute familiarity of his face was big enough for his stomach to churn - the last time he had seen it had been in his sleep, and it had been soaring around him in a whirl of gallows and bloodstained ropes. He took a deep breath.  
“Dad.”  
Amy nodded and brushed her fingers across the old scrap of paper.  
“Did you know he was in the army?”  
She nodded again. There was a pause, this time occupied by Dan’s thoughts alone.  
“He told me,” she said, “not long before…” she gulped hard. Her hand holding the photograph was shaking, and Dan laid his hand over hers. “He told me he had been in training for a long time. He told me that he had loved doing it, and he had been good at it. He wanted to pursue a career there, get in the top ranks. He told me that that picture was taken just before he met Mum.” Her voice grew softer, and her frown had been replaced by a smile.  
“And?”  
“Well, he ended his career didn’t he?” She said. “You have to choose.”  
“I guess they did love each other then.”  
“Yeah I guess.”

They sat there in silence for what seemed like hours. Amy had neatly folded the picture back into her pocket, and Dan was running his thumb over her palm in soothing movements. Her head was resting on Dan’s thigh, her long locks spread out on the floor.  
“So Dan,” Amy broke the silence, “who’s your girlfriend?”  
Dan stilled at her words and removed his hand to make her look up at him. “I don’t have a girlfriend!”  
Amy snorted and gave him a wink. “Then who are you crushing on?”  
Dan felt his cheeks flush as a pair of wide blue eyes and a cheeky smile came to his mind. “I’m not crushing-”  
“Oh please,” Amy grinned, “it’s obvious! Is it the girl with the strawberry blond hair from your English class? She’s really pretty.”  
“No,” Dan said sternly, his eyes far away from her.  
“How about the red-headed girl who always wears that blue bow in her hair?”  
“No no no,” Dan winced, “the girls at school just aren’t really…” he hesitated before speaking, his conversation with Phil pushing itself from his subconscious to the edge of his mind. “They’re not really my type.”  
She raised an eyebrow, but dropped the subject none the less.  
“What about you then?” He asked, “have you not got anyone in sight?”  
“No,” she groaned, “of course not. I told you: I don’t want or need a boyfriend. I have enough in dear Philip anyways.” She ended the last bit with a wink, and Dan’s cheeks heated up again.  
“Oh yeah,” Dan noted, resting his arm above his head, “we’re still doing that.”  
“Is he a bother to you?” Amy asked sincerely. “Because if he is, we can stop. You’ve already done so much.”  
“No no,” Dan said quickly, earning a stare from Amy, “I’m good.” He gulped, and there was a pause in the conversation. “Unless, of course, you don’t want to do it anymore?”  
“I’m okay,” she said, “I kind of enjoy it. You know, the freedom. Mum not knowing where I am. Mum thinking I’m doing her goods whereas I’m really-”  
“Shh- I don’t want to hear what you get up to.”  
“It’s not anything inappropriate!” She laughed and shoved him lightly. Her laugh was cheery and light, and reminded him distinctly of the mild summer air they had just left behind. He grinned back at her. The thick air from earlier was gone, and the birds were tweeting once more.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One mention of blood in this chapter!

                                         

The conversation with Phil still stung to Dan’s mind when he walked to school the next day. He had woken up with sweat on his forehead. In his dream, he had been partially naked, surrounded by his mother’s pink cushions and frilly blankets. His mother and her entire bridge club had come home, and they had all laughed at him. The herd of women had then vanished, and the empty space had turned into Phil’s face, his eyes vividly blue, more blue than he had ever seen them. His mouth had uttered the words over and over again. _‘Not girls, you know?’_. They had started in a clingy whisper, slowly dragging themselves through his ears and his mouth and his eyes, until they resolved into a roaring monster, chanting into his mind. Phil’s head became bigger, it soared towards him like a bulging balloon, until it stopped, his eyes turning red and his lips and face cracking. When the head exploded, the roars became thunder and the sky, which had suddenly turned up out of nowhere, lit up with lightning. Then he woke up.

He left the house late. Amy had already disappeared long before he had finished his breakfast, and Mrs Paltrow, who lived a few houses away from them, had already walked her dog twice. Even in the brisk October rain, Dan slouched lazily to school, dragging his black trainers after him, forgetting to avoid the many puddles laid on his way ahead. When he arrived in his form 15 minutes too late, the teacher hardly sneaked a glance at him, but noted his name down nevertheless.

At break time, Dan took his time leaving the classroom. He always met up with Phil in the tiny common room next to the sixth form office, where there was a shabby, checked couch that always smelt of wet dog and cigarettes. There wasn’t enough sufficient space for a whole group of people, and the only sign of the outside world was a small window in the corner near the ceiling, which also provided most of the light. The walls were painted blue and past students had written their names accompanied by rude words everywhere on it. Sometimes some of the girls from Dan’s English class would come sit there if they needed him, but other than that, the room functioned as Dan and Phil’s personal gateway to their own, secluded world.

Today, however, rocks were tied to his legs as he walked the long walk from his English classroom to the common room. The hallways were buzzing with people; kids in uniforms chatting eagerly about small, insignificant things in their lives; the oldest ones whining to teachers about having to go out in the cold. Yet nobody was standing in the way; once he was seen, tall with skinny jeans and a distant look in his eyes, the kids moved away to give him space. Nobody even hesitated; it was a norm. A norm as tiny as the tiniest button on those white uniform shirts, yet still essential enough to bring him one step closer to Phil in a shorter time.

When he walked in the door, Phil was plastered across the couch with a book resting on his bend legs. He gave Dan a wide grin when he saw him, and Dan sat down next to him, where the couch was empty of his legs.  
“You alright?” Phil said and Dan nodded. Instinctively, he rested his arm against Phil’s knees, burrowing his head in the crease of his elbow. Phil’s stare was directed at him, he could feel it through the back of his head. He sighed, closing his eyes to the feel of hugging Phil’s knees. It wasn’t soft, but it still made his head feel lighter. Suddenly, Dan let out a gasp as Phil’s legs collapsed against the couch, and Dan’s head fell towards the little stretch above his knees. A loud laughter erupted into the room, and Phil swung his legs on top of Dan’s thighs. Their position was angled and uncomfortable; Dan gave Phil a stare. His entire face was stretched into a huge grin, and his tongue was sticking out of the side of his mouth.  
“You’re such a dork Phil,” Dan snapped half-heartedly; he was smiling, and his cheeks felt warm. Phil just laughed louder. “It was nice lying on you, now I know not to do it again.” He quirked his eyebrows upwards and sat up. Phil’s laughter had subsided, though he was still smiling brightly. There was a pause in the conversation, and Dan rested his gaze on Phil’s legs, lying still on top of his thighs. A minute later, Phil poked him with his toe.  
“You tired?” He asked. Dan nodded again and looked up at him.  
“Been thinking loads lately.” There was a slight hope in him that Phil would want to know more. That he gave him his opportunity to spill out everything, and empty himself from all the bubbles and rocks inside his head. But Phil didn’t say anything; he was too polite, too considerate, too nice. Dan looked away again.  
“Actually Dan,” Phil started again. This time, his voice was more quiet, softer, with a tint of crushed vanilla. “There’s something I need to ask you… or warn you, rather.”  
Dan looked up again, and quirked his eyebrows. “Huh?”  
“Something's coming this week,” he fidgeted with his hair, nuzzling his fringe. “Like, a date with Amy - or like with you - my parents won't be home and my mum wants to cook us something really fancy. I hope you don't mind, it might look at bit romantic." His cheeks had gone pink, and it looked sweet, too sweet, like a cherry blossom blooming in the middle of winter.  
“That’s okay,” Dan said hurriedly. “We can always un-romanticise it by playing video games or something.” Phil shrugged. He was still blushing, though there was an underlying sense of disappointment in his smile.  
“Hey,” Phil said suddenly, “didn’t you promise me a horror marathon?”  
“Yeah…” Dan hesitated, “I did.”  
“Then let’s do that!” He exclaimed excitedly, sitting up straight and leaning closer towards Dan. “I have so many DVDs to show you!”  
“Great,” Dan shrugged, but Phil kept talking hurriedly about all the films they could watch and which snacks they should bring. His eyes were big and his cheeks were flaunting the huge smile on his face. If you watched him intensely, you could see with which fervour his face lit up every time he imagined a new activity to do, a new film to watch, a new thing to discuss, a new game to play. It was hard to not get affected by Phil’s happiness, so Dan’s smile grew larger and larger as their conversation flourished.

*

Phil was right. That evening, when they were all sat in the living room, his mum knitting and Amy reading, they got the call. The TV was on, flimmering in the background as Dan watched his mother talk cheerily in the phone, her voice beaming with every piece of delight left in the little living room.  
"Yes, that sounds like a great idea!" Her voice was loud and booming. It was like on of those door sellers trying to show off their best, happily mechanic voice in hope of a new buyer. Soon after, the phone call ended and she continued speaking, though with less grace in her voice and more importance. Dan listened to the volume of their voices, trying to avoid looking at his mother's face.  
She stopped suddenly as the tv caught her attention; loads of people wearing a great number of bright colours were all huddled together in crowds, waving huge signs and flags in all the colours of the rainbow. A man with a deep voice was talking over the pictures, where men and women were yelling in a language Dan didn’t understand. Some of the voices were loud and aggressive when they were in focus, as if the reason why they were demonstrating was entirely at the faults of the camera. Dan watched his mother; a frown was showing on her face, and her eyebrows were raised in disgust.  
“Anyway, as I was saying,” she continued. “Amy, you’ll be going to Phil’s on Saturday.”  
They continued their conversation with few struggles from Amy, but Dan wasn’t listening. The people on the tv screen were now cheering loudly at two women in yellow and pink bras sharing a passionate kiss. The picture changed to a news office, and Dan sunk lower into the couch.

*  
For the rest of the week, Dan hardly talked to Phil. It wasn’t a conscious decision, but as half term grew significantly closer as the days went, his load of work grew massively as well. He found himself spending every lunch period and every free period in the library. Sometimes Phil would join him, and he’d forget about his essays and instead focus on Phil whispering jokes to him and sharing sweets with him. Phil would text him at night, usually about the random thoughts he had had during the day and had forgotten to share, but Dan would reply half-heartedly. He was split; one part of him was craving the need listen to Phil, to look at Phil and be with Phil. The other part was hesitant, and flinched away from every idea involving Phil. When he was alone, his brain went over every consequence being with Phil would bring, but also every pleasure and every smile. At night, his negative side was dominant, and his dreams were left gory and dark, with a broader occurrence of man in a military uniform, hanging by his head in a knot in the roof of their old garage.

Therefore, Saturday morning, he had woken up with a new thought. He should let loose, give in, forget his thoughts and worries and let his lust win the battle.

*

From Amy  
_I’ve been welcomed by his mum and she’s left, u can come now. (btw the girl who ends up with phil is up for one wild romantic adventure oh dear)._

Dan was sitting in his room, staring mindlessly out the window. He was wearing a casual t-shirt and trackies; nothing fancy. Amy, however, had left the house 10 minutes earlier in full make-up and a long black dress. If he squinted his eyes, he could just spot his sister standing in front of the Lesters’ house in her garments and a big sports bag dragged over her shoulder. It was raining pretty badly, and her shoes didn’t look waterproof.

To Amy  
_i’ll be there in a sec, do u need anything?_

From Amy  
_no i’m fine just get here soon phil looks pretty excited._

Dan sighed. Of course he did.

*  
When he arrived at Phil’s house, he was met with a tentative, yet bright smile. Phil was wearing a dark blue button-up shirt, and black skinny jeans. His cheeks turned a slight pink when he muttered a ‘hello’, which Dan replied to with a small nod. Phil didn’t say anything when Dan walked in, and he didn’t look at him when he took his shoes off in the hallway. There was a dense silence; it made him aware of Phil’s every move and every breath. There was no clock, no music, no noise, to overlap Phil’s heavy steps and aggravated breathing.  
“So um,” Dan said, “where are we eating?”  
Phil didn’t answer, but led Dan through the living room towards a closed door in the back. The room inside was astonishing; it was dimly lit, with hundreds of candles placed neatly around the floor. There was a small, round table in the middle, which was covered with a white tablecloth and had a slim, glass vase in the middle with a red rose placed in it. The plates were already filled with food and there was a bottle of red wine in a basket next to a plate with bread.  
“Wow,” Dan said. “This is really-”  
“Extravagant?”  
“I was gonna say romantic and nice but-”  
“My mum’s been busy with it," Phil interrupted. "She insisted everything was perfect, so that I could impress my date,” he shrugged. “She’s been looking forward to it for a long time.”  
Phil walked further into the room and sat down in one of the decorative wooden chairs. Dan followed suit, his eyes gazing at Phil’s tall figure and broad shoulders.  
“Have you too?” Dan smirked. "Been looking forward to it I mean." All the candles on the ground had to take a grip on the furniture and start a fire to lighten up the mood. Or maybe just some flirting.  
Phil looked up at him. His eyes were glistening in the candle-lit light. “Yeah.”  
“So have I,” Dan said. It was meant to sound smooth and flirty, but it came out breathy and rugged. A silence rushed over them again as Phil opened the bottle of wine and started pouring something into his glass. Dan sighed and let his head fall into his hand, his elbow resting on the table.  
“Dan,” Phil said suddenly. His voice was shaking, and Dan locked their eyes immediately. The blue in them was blurred out from the wetness, and his eyelids were closing slowly. “Have you been avoiding me?”  
He felt his stomach drop. “No,” he hurried, “no I haven’t been avoiding you Phil.”  
Phil sighed heavily. "Are you sure?"  
Dan stuck his fork lightly into the meat on his plate, and stirred it around in the sauce. Phil’s gaze was stern and he was sitting up straight. The undenying tension between them was unbearable; it was as if it clung onto him as a wet piece of clothing, suffocating him.  
He cleared his throat. “I’ve had a lot of stuff to do this week.”  
Phil quirked an eyebrow.  
“A lot of thinking.” He looked up at Phil. The sincerity in his eyes was too strong to lie to. “Sorry I’ve just, like, had a lot of things to consider this week, that’s all.”  
“Alright,” Phil shrugged.  
He was looking down now, folding his serviette neatly in his hands. Dan cracked a smile. “I’m here now though,” he raised his glass and winked at Phil. “Let’s celebrate!”  
Phil grinned. “What are we celebrating?”  
“Honestly Phil,” Dan said, taking a sip. “Do we _really_ need anything to celebrate to be able to celebrate?”

*

After that, the dinner went smoothly. All the worries that had kept him awake throughout the week had faded into the nothingness of the back of his head. Phil was in front of him, sparing the quirkiest stories and the cutest anecdotes to him. He got a twist in his chest when the thought went past him; there was something impressive over someone who could live under the same pressure Dan’s mother put him under, and still smile as if the sun stroked its way into his heart every morning. Phil’s eyes shone brighter every time Dan laughed at his jokes, and his styled fringe fell into his eyes every time he hid his face in his arms. Dan drank most of the wine, and Phil talked so much his plate was only half empty when Dan had finished eating. When he finally seemed to notice he had neglected his food in his eager of talking to Dan, Dan could do nothing than to give him a smirk.  
“Pass me the sauce will you?” Phil said and reached out for the bowl of brown sauce.  
“Ooh,” Dan winked. “That’s saucy.”  
Phil laughed, covering his mouth with his hand. "That was terrible.” He took hold of the sauce bowl and started pouring the creamy liquid onto his plate of meat. “I bet I could make better puns than you."  
"Is that a challenge?"  
"It might be."  
Phil was smirking and Dan’s heart was racing against the beat.  
"Alright Lester, give me all you’ve got."  
“Oh I will, Howell.”  
Dan straightened up. There was a shudder going through his body, yet the entire room was fueled with steam from the hot food and amorous warmth from the candles all over the floor.  
“What do you call a well-known Canadian?”  
“What?”  
“A famoose.”  
Dan suppressed a giggle. “Oh my god,” he shook his head. “You did not just say that. That’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard.”  
Phil’s lips altered into a pout, and Dan had to clench his stomach together as to not start laughing.  
“You’re a dork.”  
Phil’s happy eyes and intense smile were possibly the highlights of the dinner.

*

Later that night, after they had miraculously blown out all the candles without any immediate accidents, Dan was cuddled underneath a fluffy blanket in Phil’s bed. Phil was right next to him, but had sworn he was too warm to get under the comfort of a shared blanket, and had instead changed into his pyjamas. His pyjamas pants were a vibrant green, and had little cartoon figures painted everywhere on them. His choice of sleepwear wasn’t at all a surprise for him, as they matched the childish nature of Phil’s bedroom decorations. The walls were a fluorescent green and blue, and it seemed that every piece of furniture had been plastered with at least ten stickers in all shapes and colours. The amount of toy plushies that were littered around his room had made Dan chuckle when he had first gone in there, but now, as he was pressed up against a sleepy Phil, they had just the right scale of innocence to balance out his impure thoughts.  
“To what extent do you think life is a risk?” Phil said nodding towards the film playing on the laptop screen in front of them. They had refrained from watching a horror film, and instead, Phil had found an old science fiction film.  
“Like he’s risking a lot of things by trying to save the world,” Phil continued. “Don’t you think there should be some sort of … limit?”  
Dan nodded silently. He hadn’t been concentrating on the plotline of the film, but had been sitting staring at Phil for the past half hour. It was his pyjamas pants. They were tight and the fabric was thin; it was hard not to let a wild look gaze over the outline of his crotch.  
“What would be your risk limit?” Phil said.  
Dan closed his eyes. Phil’s look was peering into him.  
“I don’t take a lot of risks.”  
Phil hummed in response and looked away.  
“But that’s mostly because like….” there was a silence in the room, only broken by the quiet film flickering in front of them. “Because I’m y’know, afraid of the consequences.”  
“I get you,” Phil said.  
“Which are mostly… being hated, or disowned and left alone.” He swallowed. There were a hundred other things related to this that would possibly justify the pathetic ambience of his words, but his voice wasn’t strong enough to get it out.  
“Do you think family is important?”  
“Yeah I think so, where would you be without it?”  
“I guess you’re right… but won’t you ever regret not taking the risk, if the opportunity is right in front of you?”  
Dan shifted in his seat. “I haven’t really thought of it like that.”  
Phil nodded, but didn’t say anything more than than. The silence that followed wasn’t awkward; there was a moment where they both turned towards the screen again. When the film turned quiet, the rain outside became more and more audible.

Dan gazed towards Phil again; he had shifted in his seat, and his legs were now spread wide apart. Dan gulped silently and sat up straight.  
“Phil?” Dan asked.  
“Hm?”  
“Can I ask you something personal?”  
Phil turned his head towards him; his smile was indifferent, yet his eyes were wide. It was during moments like these, where Phil’s gaze was bold and held such interest that one would think his dark pupil were trying to bore their way into one’s soul, that his eyes shone with the great passion of the sea.  
Dan swallowed. “Have you ever had sex with anyone?”  
The smirk on Phil’s face appeared immediately. “Yeah,” he said clearly. “I have.” He didn’t break their stare; Dan felt as if Phil’s look had intensified.  
“With a guy or with a gir-” Dan started, but was interrupted by Phil’s certain answer.  
“Guy. I’ve never had a girlfriend.”  
There were a few moments silence where Dan just nodded slowly. His eyes were still gripped onto Phil’s, and somehow, they were getting closer and closer. Without Dan’s notice, Phil’s arm had slithered up on top of the pillow supporting their backs, and Dan could see it fidgeting with the fabric out of the corner of his eye.  
“His name was Michael,” Phil broke the silence. “We had a lot of ‘friendly’ sleepovers at my house, as he shared a bedroom with his brother, but somehow our relationship didn’t last long.”  
A memory flashed across his eyes, but he didn’t look sad. Dan edged a little closer.  
He hesitated. “What was it like? The sex, I mean.”  
Phil’s fingers circled the pillow behind them; they were putting him in a trance. The laptop had stopped playing and the rain had quietened down. Suddenly, Phil leant forward. Something kept Dan from backing away, and long, painful moments after, Phil’s hand was on his shoulder and his lips were brushing against the space underneath his ear.  
“Do you want me to show you how?” He whispered. Dan let out a gasp as Phil dragged his lips across his cheek and towards his own lips. His mouth went dry and his heart started racing. Phil’s scent was strong of sweetness, and his breath was warm. Slowly, Dan let his shaking hand follow the thread of blanket and edge up to clasp against Phil’s free hand. It was warm and soft and almost distracted him from the passionate blue eyes resting right in front of his own. Suddenly, a loud, shrill noise filled the room, and Phil jumped up in a start. Dan focused on calming his breathing when Phil crawled across the bed and answered the phone. He looked down at his outstretched hand where Phil’s soft palm had rested mere seconds before. It was still warm, though not as warm as where Phil’s lips had brushed against his cheeks; they were flushed red and flaming hot.  
“Dan,” Phil said, catching Dan’s attention. “My parents are coming back in 10 minutes.” He said this with a shaking voice, and hesitated for a moment before continuing. “You have to go.”  
Dan nodded. “I’ll text Amy then.”

*

He closed his eyes and took one deep breath before removing the covers and standing up.  
His knees felt wobbly when Phil led him through his house towards the front door. He put on shoes and coat in silence; Phil was standing awkwardly by his side.  
Dan hesitated before leaving the doorway; even though the rain had subsided and was no longer a roaring monster outside their cozy room, there was still a light drizzle. “It’s been nice seeing you,” Phil spoke up, his voice quiet.  
“Yeah,” Dan agreed, “we should do it again.”  
Then he took a quick look at Phil’s flushed face and left the house. The night air was cold and fresh, and the rain had left puddles all over the pavement. In the back of his head, he could sense Phil in the doorway, the little light peeking out between the masses of darkness. To the left of him, Phil’s parents’ car lights would soon illuminate the street. If he just stood there, unmoving in the dark night outside Phil’s house, would the consequences be so dreadful, so terrifying, that he would feel numb and scared? What would that feeling be, compared to the feeling of walking away without knowing the exact taste of Phil’s lips?  
He stopped in his tracks. There was still light coming from the door behind him.  
“Phil wait.”  
He turned around in a haste and took three large steps towards the door. Phil had a surprised look on his face, which changed abruptly as Dan cupped his cheeks and led them harshly towards himself. The kiss was quick, wet and cold; the rain, though weak and indifferent, had already sat its mark on Dan’s skin and their lips slithered together and distracted him from the warm and sweet taste of Phil. He drew back a second later; Phil’s eyes were wide and the smile on his face was so bright it could probably shine the rain away. Dan brushed his thumb over his cheek.  
“I’ll see you on Monday,” he grinned, slowly backing away into the rain, leaving Phil to stand alone in the doorway. He gave a small wave and disappeared down the street.  
When he unlocked the door of his own house, a car pulled in next to the blue post box down the street.


	9. Chapter 9

                                    

 

On Sunday morning, Dan woke up to the shrill noise of his phone beeping. His eyes were still coaxed with sleep, and the warm duvet protected him from the cold world the October air had created in his room. His phone was lying next to his pillow, and when he turned around, the little illumination from the screen stung through his eyelids. He groaned and grabbed blindly after the phone. The lockscreen displayed the big white numbers 08:12 and a new message from Phil. A warm feeling went through his body and a smile crept on his face; his eyes were quick to adjust to the darkness.

From Phil:  
_'Good morning'_

To Phil:  
 _'Morning, what brings you up this early?'_

From Phil:  
_'Thinking about you'_

Dan’s stomach gave a lurch, and he grinned, rolling his head backwards. He typed out his reply with a hesitant rhythm. _‘i’ve been thinking about you too <3’._ Reading it over, he frowned. That was too forward, too eager, too sweet.

To Phil:  
_'how romantic. who doesn't think of hot boys in the morning? ;)'_

From Phil:  
_‘Shut up it’s not like that’_

_'Like’_

_‘I was thinking we could maybe hang out today. Play Mario Kart and stuff maybe?’_

Dan held back a giggle.

To Phil:  
‘ _that sounds great!’_

From Phil:  
_‘Your place or mine?’_

Dan pondered for a moment. The kettle was whistling downstairs and the cheery sounds of his mother humming were audible through the thin walls. There were no sounds coming from the room down the hallway, where Amy typically sawed wood until the early noon. His mother would be out before nine, as she always was on Sundays, but Amy would drift around from room to room all day. It was no secret that Dan and Phil were friends, but only friends. There was a distant feeling of adrenaline at the thought of having a secret with Phil and only with Phil. Besides, some things are meant to be kept secret. He typed out a reply to Phil.

To Phil:  
_‘yours’_

*

A few hours later Dan was sat on Phil’s bed with a glass of lemonade in his hand and a plate with cookies on a table next to him. Phil was in the bathroom, and Dan was looking at the books on Phil’s shelf, the plushies littering the floor, the posters hanging on the walls and the clothes spread out on his furniture. They all stared at him, as if he wasn’t welcome. They made him feel tiny. The TV in front of him was displaying what they had been doing all day; the colourful characters of Mario Kart were listed after who had won in the last race and a tune was playing in the background.

Phil reappeared a minute later, holding a little white bottle in his hand, and sat down next to Dan, their thighs against each other. He hadn’t mentioned anything about the kiss, so Dan had stayed still all day, frozen to his comfortable spot on Phil’s bed.  
“Ready to start again?” Dan said, playing with the console in his hand.  
“Mm,” Phil mumbled, but didn’t look at Dan. He had opened the bottle, and was spreading a white cream into his hands.  
“Wait what is that?”  
“Moisturiser.”  
“Moisturiser?” Dan quirked his eyebrows.  
“Yeah, it’s good for your skin,” Phil said, rubbing his hands together. “Do you want to try some?”  
Dan shrugged, but put the console down nevertheless. Phil stopped rubbing his hands and poured some more cream onto them. “Give me your hands.”  
Dan did as he was told, and Phil grabbed hold of his outstretched hands, intertwining them to get the creamy liquid to cover everything. Dan’s breath hitched. The liquid was cold, but Phil’s hands were warm and smooth, and they were gliding down every surface of his own hands.  
“You can apply this to every part of the body,” Phil said. His voice was quiet as he concentrated on the task at hand. An uncomfortable warmth began rising up Dan’s neck.  
“ _Every_ part of your body?” He said and couldn’t resist smirking.  
Phil’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline, and he retracted his hands.  
“Well,” he said, “I’ve got a different type of cream for _that_ , if you want to try it?” He sounded serious, but there was a teasing smile playing on his lips.  
Dan had to cover his face with his arm to hide the massive grin forming on his face. “Stop,” he giggled, hitting Phil lightly on his shoulder. “Let’s go back to playing.”

They played one game in complete silence. Their thighs were still leaning against each other. Dan dared not move a single muscle. When Phil won, Dan let out a silent groan. His eyes were starting to feel itchy and stingy, and it would be so easy to just lean his head against Phil’s shoulder. But he didn’t. Instead, he made ready for a new game.

“Hey Dan,” Phil said suddenly. Dan paused his roaming through the levels and looked up at Phil. He was looking at him with a small side-smirk and a glint in his eyes. “You've got something on your lips.”  
Instinctively, his hand flew up to cover his lips in search for whatever cake crumbs had settled there. “What?”  
Phil flashed a grin. “Me.”  
Then suddenly, with the weight of Phil on top of him, Dan tumbled backwards and landed squarely with his back against the crumbled duvet and his head against Phil’s pillow. He hardly had any time to gasp in shock, for the second Phil had tackled him, his lips were on his, and instead the sound he made was a frustrated mixture of a gasp and a sigh. Phil’s lips were smooth and soft and they moved slowly and gently against his own. This time, with Phil kissing back with passion, the kiss was much warmer and gave Dan tingles all over his body. His hands sprang instantly to Phil’s hair, engulfing his hands into his scalp to draw him closer. When Phil cracked a smile, Dan couldn’t help but give his hair a little tug.  
A minute later, Dan broke the kiss. Phil looked flushed above him, his fringe lain messily across his eyes and his lips round and red. Dan moved his hands from the crave of Phil’s neck to his waist. “You are so cheesy,” he said.  
“No,” Phil pouted, “I’m romantic.”  
“You know nothing about romance,” Dan stated.  
Phil smirked at this and jerked his head to the side to get his fringe out of the way. “Teach me then.” He let his finger brush against Dan’s lips, opening them, and Dan’s smile widened. “Then, maybe, I’ll show you more about that body cream.”  
“Oh really?” Dan said. Phil still lay motionless on top of him; Dan’s legs were cramped awkwardly to the side and the uneven hardness of the duvet was poking him in his back. Phil’s breath was sweltering against his neck, as if he was breathing a damp fire onto him. His knees and hipbones lay flush on his own; the little air between their body parts made it very difficult to breathe. Phil mumbled something above him, then dragged his lips down Dan’s neck and rested them against his collarbones. Dan gasped and clung onto the fabric of Phil’s shirt, but Phil didn’t do anything. He looked up; his big eyes were tinted with lust and they shone with joy.  
“I really like you Phil,” Dan said. Phil’s smile widened and he closed his eyes.  
“I really like you too, Dan.”

*

After that, Dan and Phil's dates occurred efficiently more often. During half term, they spent every single day together. Nobody said anything, but Amy's eyes grew every time Dan told her, with as much chill as he could muster, that he had one more thing planned. Their mother was thrilled. In the mornings, her loud humming disrupted the calm sunrise, and the birds sung more agitated than happily. For a late October, the weather was surprisingly mild, yet rain covered the most of London’s dignified streets. Amy was very quiet that week; she didn’t snore at night, her music had changed from noisy '80s rock ballads to melancholy piano music, her hair was less tidy and she didn’t have breakfast with him anymore. But she didn’t object Dan’s wishes to keep seeing Phil; she still went out, took her usual stroll towards the inner city, with her usual sports bag across her shoulders. Sometimes, when they ran into each other on the way to a 3 am bathroom visit, she stopped in front of him and looked at him. She never said anything, just observed him, as if looking for something distinct in his eyes, perhaps a secret that Dan was unwilling to tell. One night, when the moon illuminated their house more brightly than ever, and the streetlights were turned off, Amy seeked him in his room. Phil had made him watch a horror film a few hours previously, and so his night light was on and his door was wide open.  
“Dan,” she whispered in the doorway. She had tiptoed there, and because of Dan’s light, she was nothing but a dark silhouette with a crispy, silent voice. Dan sat up in his bed with a start.  
“Amy?” He breathed. Amy took a step inside, and Dan’s heart calmed down.  
“I need to talk to you.”  
She just stood there, unmoving. There was a silence before Dan answered. “About what? Can’t it wait?”  
“It’s important,” she said. Her voice was slow, but the words were uttered quickly. “I just need to know something.”  
Dan sighed. He relaxed his shoulders and turned around to look at her. She didn’t move, and her face looked indifferent. “Tell me.”  
“Would you do anything for me?”  
A thick silence filled the room. The yellow bulb of light flickered behind him. Amy shifted around on her feet, but never broke their eye contact. He looked her up and down; her hands were clenched into fists; her breathing was heavy, yet steady.  
“Anything?” Dan whispered, raising his eyebrows.  
“Anything,” she repeated.  
She was wearing an oversized t-shirt - man sized - which hung loosely on her shoulders and stopped just below her waist. It was a black shirt with a circular logo in the middle, which had two red roses and two pistols inside it. It was nice on her, yet the colours were faded and the fabric was crumbled. The memories from that night were clear though; she had chosen it at a concert, several years back, and their dad, unable to resist her puppy eyes, had queued too long for an overpriced item in the wrong size.  
Amy suddenly looked younger when he answered, “I’d always do the right thing.”  
She closed her eyes and clenched her fists tighter. “That doesn’t answer my question.”  
“Well,” Dan said, he looked away from her and drew in an exasperated breath. “I wouldn’t kill someone, for example.”  
Now she looked away, turned her body around and walked towards the door, all whilst swinging her arms aimlessly around the room. “Argh,” she exclaimed, “Dan this isn’t a crime noir, it’s real life and nobody is getting killed.” She stopped and looked at him again. “I just want to know one thing.”  
Dan nodded expectantly.  
“Would you ever let me get hurt?”  
He furrowed his brows. “Of course not.”  
“Do you promise?”  
Her stare was cold, but she managed to reach his bed faster than he could express his confusion. “Yes, I promise.”  
“Pinky promise?”  
She was by the side of his bed, close enough to touch, so Dan rolled his eyes and held his little finger out for her. She shook it with no word, whispered _‘thanks Dan,’_ when she was done, and disappeared out his room. It was only then that he mustered up the courage to turn off his light.

*

On the last day of half term, Dan had isolated himself to his room. The piles of homework had only grown since he started Sixth Form, and the time spent with Phil had lowered his motivation level with a great strike. The books and papers towered up around him, and his left hand was starting to hurt. His eyes had danced around the line between opening and closing for about 10 minutes when something hit his window. His head swung up with force, as he emitted a gasp. There was nothing outside his window though; sometimes the tree in the garden would knock its breaches against the glass of his window. But the wind was still and the tree was sleeping. Suddenly, it hit again. It was a tiny rock, being thrown upwards into the air. When he opened the window and looked down, he caught the wrongdoer.  
“Phil!” Dan hushed. “Why are you throwing rocks at my window?”  
Phil, having just thrown a late rock and missed the window by an inch, hid his hands behind his back and beamed up at Dan.  
“It’s romantic,” Phil said. “Watch me.”  
Then Phil, with his lanky legs and his long arms, took hold of the lowest breach of the old oak tree in front of Dan’s house, and hurled himself up.  
“Phil, no,” Dan exclaimed in a quiet voice, “you’re gonna end up hurting yourself!”  
“It’s OK Dan, I can do this,” said Phil. He was now standing upright on the breach, clambering onto the trunk. It was wavering slightly underneath his feet. Once he got hold of the breach above him, and gave off with his feet, the whole breach swung up in a cracking noise.  
“Phil,” Dan hushed, “you’re gonna wake everyone up.”  
“I’ve got it Dan,” Phil said, ignoring his request. He had now managed to get his butt up the second breach, and was sitting with both his legs dangling over it. They were face to face, with about four feet between them.  
“Yeah,” Dan smirked. “And what now?”  
“Now,” Phil said looking around him, “I climb in your window.”  
“No,” Dan stated. “Absolutely not. You’re gonna end up falling on your butt and my mum will hear it.”  
“Ahw come on Dan,” Phil said. He leant forward a tiny bit, relaxing his elbows on the thick breach that usually swung loosely against Dan’s window. “I’ve come this far, haven’t I? Don’t you think I can keep going?”  
“Phil,” Dan smiled. “Do you actually want my honest opinion?”  
“Please Dan?” Phil pleaded. He leant yet further forward, diminishing the distance between them, and becoming more visible for Dan to see. His eyes were big, and looked up at him with such devotion and desire he was hard to stand for.  
“I mean,” Dan hesitated. He looked up around him; the street was blissfully quiet, with nothing but a lonely cat wandering around. “I guess you could try, but-”  
But Dan didn’t get to finish his sentence before Phil jumped up and put his hands in the air in a silent yell of victory. The breach, however, was not ready for Phil’s eager weight, and with a loud 'crack' it gave away, and Phil landed butt first on a few of the lower breaches, before rolling down and hitting the ground with a thud.  
"Ouch!" he yelled. It was dark, but Dan could vaguely detect Phil’s tangled body lying on the ground.  
“Phil!” He exclaimed. “Are you alright?”  
Phil groaned in response. The noise echoed through the street, and a dog barked madly in the distance.  
“Phil be quiet,” Dan shushed. “If my mum hears you we’re both screwed!”  
“I just wanted to be romantic.”  
The words made a stream of warmth go through his body, but there was no time for expressions of gratitude now.  
“Phil can you walk?” Dan asked.  
Phil answered him a few groans later. “My foot hurts, but I’ll probably manage getting home without it falling off.”  
Dan rolled his eyes. “Phil you turnip, I told you this would happen.”  
“It wasn’t my fault!” Phil exclaimed. “It was the tree. If it hadn’t been that weak I would have been in your room by now.”  
“Sure,” Dan said.  
“It’s true!”  
Dan chuckled. If he squinted his eyes together he would be able to see Phil resting helplessly against the tree. “Maybe you should go home Phil, and put some ice on your foot.”  
Phil’s eyes turned towards the window and glared. After a few seconds, he sighed. “Fine.”  
He walked out of the garden with a limb and his hands in his pockets.  
“Hey Phil!” Dan yelled to his back.  
“Yeah?”  
“You’re cute.”  
*

When Dan went to sleep that night, he felt restless. His hands were dripping with sweat, but there was an icy feeling in the tip of his fingers, that slowly spread up past his knuckles and gave a shimmering feeling in his shoulders. When he closed his eyes he saw nothing but darkness. Phil often plugged into his dreams, either with soft eyes or with a cheeky smirk, but this time, Dan saw him writhing in pain. He was lying by Dan’s foot in a pool of blood. His hands were covered in mud and dirt, and his left foot was completely disentangled from his body. _‘Please Dan, don’t let me get hurt,_ ’ he screamed.  
‘Phil,’ Dan gasped. Then Phil disappeared, and suddenly Dan was in his old garage. There was a mirror in front of him, but he wasn’t looking at himself. Instead, what he saw was a faceless man wearing a khaki green uniform. His hands were hanging loosely by his side, and he was as if floating in the air, only fastened by a ribbon around his neck. Before Dan could wake up, the glass shattered, and the image disappeared once again. This time, it changed to an open field, with white and pink flowers painting the ground. Memories blended into his unconsciousness; he was there with his dad and his mum and Amy. His mum was smiling and Amy was little, with dimples in her cheeks and curly hair. Then Phil appeared too, and his blue eyes shone brighter than the sun, and the clouds disappeared and suddenly it was dark, but Phil was still brightening up around him.

He woke up with trembling hands and wet cheeks.


	10. Chapter 10

                                

 

One Saturday later, Dan was standing in front of Phil’s house, a handheld ladder underneath his right arm and his phone in his left hand. It was cold and dark; he had followed the spots of light that were patched underneath the streetlights on his way there. When he had had a break to rest his arm, his breath had come out foggy.

To Phil:

_Do you want to see romance?_

As soon as he’d sent the text, he walked around Phil’s house and entered his garden. There was no light visible in the house, except for through the gable window, where a yellow glow was illuminating the room inside. Before he could give it an extra thought, his phone buzzed.

From Phil:

_What?_

Looking briefly up at the window, he typed.

To Phil:

_Come to your window._

The wind sung deeply around him, and when the little gable window opened, it was with a loud slam. Phil popped his head out, his black hair falling sloppily around his ears as he spun his head in every direction.  
“Dan?”  
Dan broke away from his spot in the shadows and trotted towards the house. He tried not to look at Phil, who was watching him with his eyes out wide. When he rested the ladder against the gable wall and folded it out, Phil spoke again.  
“What are you doing?”  
Dan ignored him as he began the ascension. His head was bent forward to hide his smirk. When he was halfway up, he stopped and looked up at Phil; the entire upper part of his body was leant over the window sill, and his hands were clutching helplessly at the ladder edges. His mouth had fallen open and his eyes were big and tentative. Dan grinned to himself.  
Then he spoke quietly, in almost a whisper.  
“But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks?”  
He started walking upwards, slowly.  
“It is the east, and Phil is the sun.”  
As he neared the top, more of Phil came into the view. His round cheeks were glowing, and it gave his pale skin a shiny colour. His eyes were dark, and he was wearing his glasses.  
“Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,” Dan continued. “Who is already sick and pale with grief.”  
Then he was at the same height as Phil. He took a deep breath, but before he could continue, Phil had snatched the collar of his coat and drawn him into a kiss. Phil was glowing with warmth, his lips were soft, and his hand was gently caressing the small part between Dan’s collarbones. Dan leaned in closer, but his foot was unsteady, and Phil was no longer holding onto the ladder.  
“Phil,” Dan hummed. “Let me in.”  
Phil broke apart immediately. “Oh yeah, of course.” His lips were swollen and he looked flustered as he took hold of Dan’s hand and pulled him inside.  
The comfortable warmth of Phil’s bedroom engulfed, and he hastily unbuttoned his coat and threw it on the floor, amongst dirty socks and empty pizza boxes. Phil was standing a few feet away, his arms hanging loosely in front of him, folded neatly over his crotch. His eyes were following Dan’s movements, his gaze lingering on his chest.  
“Hey,” Dan said, and Phil met his eyes.  
“Hey.” Phil took the few steps forward to close the gap between them. “Sorry I haven’t been able to hang out this week.” He gave him a sad smile. “My mum’s so over protective. She hasn’t even let me leave my room.”  
“Just because of your foot, huh?” Dan said, looking down at Phil’s feet. He was in socks, and his one foot was in bandages. “Does it hurt a lot?”  
“No,” Phil shook his head violently. “But as long as it’s swollen and blue my mum won’t let go.”  
Dan chuckled at Phil’s pout and doe eyes, and let the tip of his fingers brush up and down his chest, until it rested on his shoulder. Phil was watching it carefully, and his body had stilled completely; the only movement was the solemn tranquillity of his chest rising and falling. His face was so placidly bent that, even though they fit his nose so well, his glasses were at the risk of falling off the tip of his nose.  
“You look cute with glasses,” said Dan. Phil then moved his head up in surprise.  
“You really think so?” He wrinkled his nose.  
“Of course,” Dan said softly. With a gentle motion, Dan placed his finger at the bridge of Phil’s glasses, and pushed them up to the top of his nose. When Phil smiled, Dan leant in and let his lips caress the tip of his nose. He didn’t draw apart; instead, he drew his mouth across Phil’s cheeks and started nibbling at the skin below his ear. When he opened his mouth a little, Phil stiffened again, and his hands sprung to Dan’s sides, where his fingertips could nestle in the small of Dan’s back. With a gentle pull, Phil closed the gap between them so that their hips were touching, and their chests were drawn against each other, and Dan could feel Phil’s crotch through his jeans. Dan smiled against Phil’s skin, and started kissing lower, nipping and gently rubbing his teeth against the sensitive skin of his neck. Phil hummed quietly, his hands slowly drawing circles on Dan’s bum. When Dan reached Phil’s collarbones, a shirt was in his way.  
“Take your shirt off?” Dan mumbled. He wanted it to be demanding and sensual, but it came out as an insecure question. Phil didn’t seem to hear the quivering in his voice, yet immediately drew back and took his shirt over his head. A second later, they were clasped together again, Phil’s hands pressing against Dan’s bum even tighter. Dan was now kissing and biting at Phil’s chest, just above the nipple. His skin was soft, and there were a few dark hairs gathered in the middle; he could feel Phil’s ragged breath against his ear as his chest rose faster and faster. Suddenly, his lips disconnected as he was lifted up into the air. Phil’s hands were crammed underneath his thighs, and Dan’s first instinct was to tangle his legs around Phil’s hips.  
“What are you doing?” Dan laughed. Rather than replying, Phil pressed his lips against Dan’s neck, and started stumbling backwards. Dan bent his head lower, so that his chin was resting against Phil’s soft hair, and before he knew of it, Phil had hit the end of the bed, and they were both falling. Phil giggled when his back hit the mattress, and Dan fell on top of him, chests flushed together in sweaty heat.  
“You’re wearing too much clothes,” Phil pouted. Dan smiled and started unzipping his coat.  
When he sat up, however, something caught his eyes. On the wooden drawer standing next to Phil’s bed, a little white bottle was placed amongst pencils and animal figures.  
“Hey, can I see this?” Dan said suddenly, and reached out for the bottle. It was cold and sleek and half empty.  
“What,” Phil laughed, his tongue sticking out between his teeth, “have you never seen lube before?”  
Dan blushed, and didn’t look at Phil. “Of course I have,” he said. “I’ve just never owned it before.”  
Phil sat up at this. “Really?”  
Dan nodded, though still didn’t look at Phil. “My mum would notice.”  
“Do you want to,” Phil started, but trailed off, his eyes directed at the bulge in Dan’s jeans. Phil’s hands were now burning hot against his back.  
“I,” he began, but was interrupted by a loud voice in the distance.  
“Phil!” Footsteps were audible from the other side of the door.  
“My mum,” Phil gasped. They looked at each other in panic, before Dan jumped off Phil in a rush, and ran towards the window. When he had just gotten down the ladder enough for his head to be hidden from view, Mrs Lester entered the room.  
“How’s your foot?” Dan heard her say, before he trailed off in his own thoughts. If they hadn’t heard her coming, he could have possibly been thrown out that window rather than climbed out.

A minute or two later, when Mrs Lester had left the room, Phil came back with a shaken expression on his face.  
“Dan,” he whispered. “I’m sorry… my mum. If she’d seen us.”  
“I know,” Dan said. He was still breathless, but now the air around him was icy cold. “I’m sorry.”  
“What are you sorry for?”  
“For coming here, it would’ve been my fault.”  
Phil took hold of Dan’s cheek. His hand was warm, and Dan subconsciously let his head rest towards it. “Don’t think about that,” Phil said.  
Dan sighed.  
“Do you want to come back in?” Phil asked. “Is it worth the risk?”  
“I don’t know.” He remembered the bottle of lube. “Not tonight.”

*

The next day, Dan’s mum didn’t go to her weekly bridge club. Instead, she dragged Dan out of bed at 9, because _“Mrs Lester has invited us over for tea, wear your nicest shirt!”_ He was now stood in the hallway, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, carefully watching Amy struggle with her coat, claiming to have ‘sore muscles’. His mum was running back and forth from the kitchen, rambling about manners and etiquette.  
“Don’t forget to keep your legs folded neatly, Amelia, it doesn’t look nice,” she rambled. “And Daniel you need to offer Amelia to sit down first, I don’t want Mrs Lester to think we’re not suitable, just because her son is such a refined man.”  
“Yes Mum,” Dan said, even though the image he had of Phil wouldn’t really match the word ‘refined’.  
“Oh by the way,” she said, suddenly stopping her monologue. “You’ve been going out a lot lately.” She looked up at Dan, her eyes lingering on his, as if trying to see through him. Dan stood up straight, resting his hands on his cheek just next to his nose.  
“Yeah?”  
“When will I meet her?”  
Dan furrowed his eyebrows. “Sorry?”  
“Your girlfriend,” she said as she took her coat from the hanger and started getting dressed. “You do have a girlfriend, right?”  
His mum wasn’t looking at him, yet still he felt her eyes examining his every movement. In the corner of his eyes, Amy was snickering.  
“No Mum, I don’t have a girlfriend,” he said. His mum looked up and emitted a smile.  
“If you say so.”  
When they left, Dan didn’t trust either of the women’s smirks.

*

The Lesters’ house was as decorative and pink as always, and this time there were situated in the drawing room. There was a wooden stove glowing against the back wall, which would have been cozy had it not been too warm. They were sitting on small, wooden chairs painted in white, with a thin, flowery cushion on them. Mrs Lester sat on the little couch all by herself, and the table stood between them with everything from a large teapot to cakes with cream and fruit.  
“Unfortunately Amelia, as you have probably heard, Philip’s foot is horribly hurt. I want him to get some rest before he sees anyone,” Mrs Lester chatted as she poured the hot substance from the teapot. “It’s just us today.” She smiled sweetly, her loosely made make-up giving her wrinkles a chance to blossom. “Which,” she said loudly, clapping her hands together. “Gives me a great opportunity to talk with the both of you about how glad I am for this newly made relationship.”  
Dan gulped, and took a small sip of his tea, trying not to keep eye-contact with Mrs Lester. He decided letting Mrs Lester talk was the best option - he could pretend to be listening if necessary.  
“Philip didn’t have any friends before - well of course except the boy in the chess club. They were together every day for a long time. I don’t know what happened to him, but suddenly he stopped coming,” she frowned.  
“Some kids these days,” Dan's mum blurted out eagerly, as if it had been her dying wish to phrase exactly this to Mrs Lester. “Their upbringing. That’s the problem.”  
“I agree,” Mrs Lester said loudly. Dan shifted around in his chair, failing to make himself comfortable on the hard fabric. “Oh that reminds me!” she exclaimed suddenly. “The neighbour’s wife - you know the one who makes those awful raspberry pies,” she told his mum, whose teacup was now completely empty. “I met her in the store this morning - awful dress she wore you wouldn’t believe it, anyway,” she took a sip of her tea. “She told me that, last night, when she was taking a walk with her dog, she had seen a boy hanging out the window of Philip’s room.” Dan looked up with a jerk of his head. Shit. It was over. His sudden nod seemed to have woken Amy; her head was turned in his direction. He didn't dare turn his head to confirm her questioning eyes. Instead, he sat his teacup on the table and rested his shaking hands in his lap.  
“Oh dear!” his mum exclaimed, putting down her teacup and holding her hands up to her mouth. “But he isn’t - I mean if your Philip was…” she started, avoiding the eyes of the small woman opposite her. Dan could feel his hands getting sweatier. A boiling feeling in the pit of his stomach was moving around, and his heart seemed to take double-leaps.  
“Oh no!” Mrs Lester said loudly. “Definitely not! How could you suggest such a thing? Philip was brought up very well. Mr Lester and I never brainwashed him with such nonsense.”  
Dan felt his head go heavy, and he had to let his hand go through his hair once, twice, to steady it.  
“But then what did she see?” Dan’s mum asked, doubt in her voice.  
“Oh I’ll tell you dear,” Mrs Lester began. “She’s not like us, that one. She’s ill, has been for years. Since her husband died, I’m afraid. She obviously made it up, to give my family a bad reputation. Belongs in a mental hospital in my opinion - or a prison. As long as she’s locked up.”  
“Oh dear!” his mum exclaimed. “That she would make up such a rumour. It’s absurd!”  
Dan wasn’t looking at the two women. His eyes were firmly fixed on his feet. When he felt a pinch in his arm, he jerked his head up again, only to see that the pincher was Amy. Her eyebrows had shot up to the top of her head, and her mouth was in a thin line. Dan just gave a helpless shrug.

*

Hours of dull boredom and sweaty palms later, they were walking back home. Dan had trailed behind and was slouching his feet in the puddles on the way; it was raining and the droplets were cooling him down. Suddenly, a figure appeared beside him.  
“Hey,” a light voice said. It was Amy. Her hair was dripping wet, falling down her eyes and her cheeks. Dan just nodded at her.  
“So, did you know Phil was gay?” She asked. Dan stopped. Amy stood in front of him, her eyes gazing across his eyes. She wasn’t grinning this time; her eyes were bigger and she looked smaller. Dan didn’t answer immediately, he just stared, and hoped she would be the one to stir away. She didn’t though, but her eyes were quivering and her face became wetter and wetter, the water dripping down her throat and collar.  
“No,” he said. She nodded, and they kept walking.

She wouldn’t be asking about girlfriends anymore.


	11. Chapter 11

                               

 

The mild October weather quickly grew into something more windy and cold, and as November approached, Dan and Phil became more and more inseparable. On Guy Fawkes Night, Dan and his family had been invited to the Lesters’ house, which insisted of a lot of acting on Amy and Phil’s part. Phil sat with his arm around Amy the entire night, but his hand was not touching her shoulder, and his eyes were not on her face. The women were gushing over them all night, and he went home early with an uneasy stomach and a headache.

*

“I hate hiding,” Dan whispered.  
“ _I know,”_ Phil said, his voice just as quiet, as hesitant. _“Should we come clean?”_  
“I don’t know.” He crept further inside his duvet cave, so that only a dash of light could come in. “It’s a big risk. If my mum disowns me, I’m screwed.”  
“ _Yeah that’s true. But just so you know, I would love it.”_  
“What would you love about it?” He held his phone closer.  
“ _I would love to walk down the street with my hand in yours. I would love to kiss you on the cheek every time I see you, even with our parents around us. I would love to bring you to family dinners, to see people’s faces glow when they realise how happy I am with you. I would love to call you my boyfriend._ ” Dan didn’t have a reply to that; the sincerity in Phil’s voice was surprising.  
“ _Dan?”_  
“Phil that is probably the most romantic thing you’ve ever said,” Dan laughed. He was glad Phil couldn’t see him blushing.  
“ _Yeah I know I don’t think it suits me, let’s go back to not being sappy,_ ” Phil laughed. _“Hey Dan, what do you call a fly with no wing?”_  
“What Phil?” Dan giggled.  
“ _A walk!”_  
“Oh God, Phil, you’re so-”  
“Daniel!” A shrill voice interrupted him. “Come down stairs!”  
“Hold on Phil, my mum’s calling. I’ve gotta go.”

*  
A few minutes later he came down to a living room with a frilly pink tablecloth and four porcelain plates placed neatly opposite each other.  
“Who’s coming?” He asked.  
“I’ve invited Amelia’s boyfriend to eat with us.” His mother said. She was ironing a strikingly yellow dress.  
“Boyfriend?” Dan frowned, before realising who she was talking about "Oh.”  
"I want everything to be nice and classy, so wear your best outfit."  
He almost asked if she would be wearing her best outfit as well, but he refrained. “How come nobody’s told me before now?”  
“Why would I tell you?” she frowned. “It isn’t a big deal.”  
She turned her eyes towards her dress, which showed her dark red eye shadow.  
“Alright then.”

 

*

When the doorbell rang later that day, Dan didn’t answer it. Instead, he sat comfortably in the drawing room chair, with his legs spread open and his tightest jeans on. He had made sure that his hair was showing his earrings and that his shirt showed just the slightest bit of chest. When Phil walked in, Dan was the first thing caught in his eyes, and his cheeks immediately turned a faint pink.  
“Dan,” Phil nodded politely.  
“Phil,” Dan said as he got up from the chair. He strolled easily towards Phil, subtly wiggling his hips in the process, and grabbed his hand in welcome.  
“Glad to see you,” Phil said. He was eyeing Dan up, and so lost in thought that Dan had to cough before he let go of his hand.  
“Oh there you are!” A voice called from behind them, and they both broke their stare, turning around to see Dan’s mother in a dress that looked like it had been dipped in mustard.  
“You look lovely Mrs Howell,” Phil said sweetly as the woman strutted towards them. “Thanks for the invitation. I’ve been looking forward to this all week!”  
“So would I have,” Dan whispered so that only Phil could hear him. “If I’d known.”  
Phil gave him a sly smile and a wink.  
“Oh! You know what I think is in order?” Dan’s mother cried. “A group photo!”  
Dan sighed. His mother’s definition of a group photo was always quite ambiguous. Maybe it would be all of them; maybe it would be just the couple; or maybe Dan would have to take a picture of his mother with her arm clinging onto Phil’s shoulder. He shuddered at the thought. Before Dan could dwell deeper into his disastrous thoughts, however, Amy appeared in the door with a bored expression on her face.  
“Amelia, go stand between them.”  
She did as she was told and Phil’s arm slithered around her back with fine expertise. When they all stood a bit closer, Phil’s arm moved slowly around her back and suddenly, Dan gave a gasp as he felt it resting on his butt. Out of the corner of his eyes, Phil was smirking. Dan felt a flush creep up his neck, and when the flash went off, Phil gave a little squeeze and there was no doubt his face was all red.  
When both women turned their backs, Phil rested his hand on Dan’s chest and started leaning towards him, stopping right when their mouths were inches from each other. “The game is on, Howell.” He whispered.

*

When Phil sat down at the dinner table, Dan quickly snatched the seat opposite him. His mum gave him a disapproving look when she discovered she had to be in the seat the longest away from Phil. But Dan didn’t care; Phil was looking at him with a smirk and eyes that spoke all Dan’s guilty thoughts just with the flutter of an eye-lash. Amy, who had not bothered dressing up in particularly nice clothes, was looking between them with a knowing look.  
“So Philip, how is it going with your studies?” His mother asked sweetly as the food had been served. “Is it difficult?”  
Phil broke his stare with Dan, and turned to his mother with a smile. “Oh very,” he said. “It’s not too bad right now, but when I go to university, the hours will be very hard and very long.”  
“Oh yes,” she exclaimed. “I bet loads of people will drop out then. The weak ones. Some people just aren’t fit for intellectual degrees like you.” She laughed.  
“I agree. It’s very hard to take. Some people just dive straight in at first, but what you really need to do is take it slow… you need to… open up and learn your study.” He was talking very slowly, and his voice was deep and hoarse. “You can’t give everything you have first. It’s only when you’ve got the hang of it you can really go hard and deep into your study. After that, everything goes fast and you’ve cracked and ruined your study in the best way possible.”  
“Oh very intelligent,” she said. “That would be hard to figure out though, if you’re not competent enough?”  
“Yes you definitely need preparation,” Phil nodded. The palm of Dan’s hand had gone sweaty and he was trying relentlessly to dry it off in his jeans without accidentally touching something he would regret. Phil was looking at Dan’s mother, yet the corner of his eye was directed at Dan and the smirk playing on his lips was only visible from his point of view. “And you need to want it,” he continued. “And you need to show that you want it.”  
Slowly, Dan’s hand crept down the front of his jeans and he closed his eyes. He would have to do something. With all eyes still on Phil, Dan took a big bite of yorkshire pudding and emitted a loud moan. “Your food is so good Mum,” he chewed noisily. “Really, you’ve overstepped yourself this time.” When he looked up again, Amy was grinning at him, and Phil had a satisfied smirk plastered on his face. His mother, however, was frowning.  
“Don’t make those awful noises when we have guests. It’s not nice” she said sharply.  
“Don’t think about it Mrs Howell, maybe Dan is just excited about my study advice, which is understandable. Or maybe he wants the dessert.” Phil said, and Dan gulped.

As Phil kept talking, Dan stretched out his leg and slowly started dragging his toe up Phil’s leg. After a second, a smirk showed on Phil’s lips, yet he continued talking. His mother, sat with her elbows halfway across the table, was listening eagerly to his every word. Amy wasn’t listening; she was looking intently at Dan, while her fingers kept playing with a serviette.  
“You are a great story teller, Philip,” his mother laughed, and Phil looked at her with an awkward smile. “I bet you’re also great with children.”  
“Oh I do love children,” Phil said. He had a blush on his face, but as Dan kept going farther and farther up his legs, he was sure it wasn’t because of the compliments.  
His mother laughed again. It was that kind of shrill laugh that went straight to every bone in his body. “Oh, I’ve completely forgotten something!” She exclaimed suddenly. “I must show you something in the kitchen.” She stood up with a start, and motioned for Phil to follow her. When Phil went past Dan, he let the tips of his fingers brush slowly again his neck, and Dan shuddered. Phil’s fingers were long and soft, and yet they were always icy cold, touching them gave him a soothing warmth in his entire body.  
Once they were gone, Dan turned to Amy.  
"Amy," Dan said in a hushed voice, "can you do me a favour?"  
"Depends on what it is big brother," she raised her eyebrows. Her smirk had grown drastically over the course of their dinner.  
"Ask Mum if Phil can stay the night?"  
"What?!" She exclaimed, dropping the spoiled serviette on her plate. "Are you mad?"  
“Please Amy,” he begged.  
“Dan,” she said firmly. “You must be out of your mind. She’s gonna find out in a second, you know that right?”  
“No, it’ll work. Trust me.”  
“Well, you owe me then. My room is right next to yours.”  
Dan’ stomach gave a jolt, but the victory was his.

Later that evening, as his mother’s eyes had gotten sleepy and the wine bottle had been emptied, Amy took her chance.  
“Mum,” she said sweetly, fluttering her eyelashes. They were sitting in the living room now, Amy and Phil pressed up together on the couch and Dan and his mum sitting in the chairs around the coffee table. Dan was surveying them; Amy was leaning back in the cushions, her arm resting casually on Phil’s knees. Phil was rigid in his seat; his legs were turned away from Amy and his arms were folded in his lap.  
“Yes sweetie?” Her eyes looked away from their natural resting spot on Phil and sought Amy.  
“Can I ask you permission for something?”  
“Go ahead.”  
“Can Phil sleep over?  
The room went quiet. Dan held his breath has the two of them stared at each other. Amy was smiling; the dimple on her cheek was visible and her eyes were surrounded by crinkles. His mother had a blank expression on her face. Phil though, was the one who looked most surprised. His eyes were wide and his mouth was agape; the suggestion was such a shock to him that he had even turned towards Amy.  
“Please Mum,” she continued. “Me and Phil want to watch a movie together. It’s a horror movie, and I’m a bit scared.” She gave her smile an extra tinge of sweetness, yet the woman’s eyes were still not believing it. “Actually, we’ll even watch it in Dan’s room,” she tried. “He’ll be there the whole time. Please Mum.”  
Their mother blinked. For a moment, she looked between the three of them. When she came to Dan, her eyes pierced and she hesitated for a moment before looking back at Amy.  
“Alright,” came her judgement, “on one condition: you will sleep separately.”  
“Of course Mum, of course, thank you so much,” she sprung up and hugged her tightly.  
At Amy’s sudden attack, his mother stiffened her arms and sat up straight. “Philip will be sleeping in the guest room. I’ll be checking your room in the morning, Amelia, to see if he’s there. “  
“That’s great Mum!”  
Phil did not look as excited. He was looking at Dan with a blunt expression on his face. He seemed to be aware that Dan was the head of this, but with his shaking head and scared eyes it did not seem he was in on it. Yet.  
“Oh Mum, Phil just has to go get something first,” Dan said. Phil furrowed his brows and looked up at Dan’s mother.  
“Oh he can burrow a toothbrush, that’s no problem.” She smiled.  
“Oh it isn’t that,” Dan said. He gave Phil a smirk and a wink, just directed at him. “He has this moisturiser, that he, like, has to have on before bed. Right Phil?”  
“Yeah,” Phil said hesitantly, his hands in his laps were folded together so tightly that t had a tinge of red. “Uh, so I guess I’ll be back in a few minutes then.” He said after a pause. His eyes were on Dan on the entire walk out of the room. Dan’s mother followed closely after, without looking at any of her children on the way.

 

“Great acting,” Dan whispered to Amy.  
“Thanks,” she said half-heartedly, as she, too, left the room.  
“Oh and Dan,” Amy stopped. “Remember my room is right next to yours.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you do not feel comfortable reading smut, you can skip this chapter without missing out!

                                

 

When Phil came back, the house had turned quiet and the lights in Dan’s room were out, so that only the string of fairy lights above his bed illuminated the room. His curtains were drawn, and through them, the moon peeked inside with curiosity. Dan was sitting on his bed when Phil entered the room.

“Hey Dan,” Phil said in a whisper. His voice was deeper than usual, spiced with nervosity yet still unhesitant, determined.  
“Hey Phil.”  
Before Dan could get up, Phil was sat next to him. They were sitting very close; Phil’s hand was resting near Dan’s thigh and he could smell Phil’s sweet aftershave. His breath was warm, and so was the feeling of having his chest almost pressed close against him. It was as if warmth was radiating off Phil in general. Phil’s skin looked almost as if it were glowing in the dim lighting, yet around his eyes, it sparkled.  
“You know you’re insane, right?”  
He was smiling. His eyes were crinkling and his tongue peeked through the gap between his lips. In a second, Dan leant forwards and pecked his lips. It didn’t stop his smile, yet a patch of pink formed on his cheeks.  
“Yeah,” Dan breathed against Phil’s half-open mouth. Their foreheads were pressed together and when Phil exhaled in little gaps, it felt like new energy was being blown into him, lighting up every limb of his body. Dan brought his hands up to rest on Phil’s shoulders and stole another kiss; just a quick peck again, but this time, another one followed soon after.  
“Why now though?” Phil whispered.  
Dan’s grip tightened around the fabric of Phil’s t-shirt. He let out a deep sigh. “I’m just so tired of hiding.” In exhausting, Dan pulled Phil into a clingy hug and let his head fall on top of his shoulder. Phil’s neck was soft and warm against Dan’s face, and his hair tickled lightly on his forehead. Phil hugged him back, his soft arms making a warm cave around Dan. He closed his eyes and let the scent and feel of Phil engulf him.  
“I know,” Phil sighed. “Is it worth the risk though?”  
Dan could feel Phil’s cheek move when he talked; it was a growling sound that could be heard deep within Dan’s head. It was calming. He let the question float in the air for a bit before answering. Phil’s fingers were drawing sedative circles on his back.  
He sat up slowly and looked Phil deep in the eyes. “I don’t care. I just want you.”  
Then he started kissing him. It was tender at first, and Phil kissed back with tentative nips at his bottom lip. Dan let his tongue glide over the opening of Phil’s lips, and when Phil hummed in response, he swirled his tongue around Phil’s and crushed their mouths together harder. Phil’s fingers had stopped twirling on his back, and he was now clutching a piece of the fabric of Dan’s shirt. Dan let his hand wander aimlessly around Phil’s back, brushing past his butt and caressing the skin between his shirt and his trousers. Phil paused for a moment, letting go of Dan’s lips and taking in a deep breath. Dan couldn’t help but stare; his lips were pink and swollen; his cheeks were flushed and his pupils were dark.  
“Hey Phil,” Dan said. The second Phil looked up at him, Dan jumped up and pushed Phil down in a careless tackle. Phil giggled sheepishly and brought his hands up to tangle in Dan’s hair.  
“Hey Dan.”  
“Did you know,” he said as he pecked Phil’s lips, “that I really like you?”  
Phil hummed in comfort as Dan kept kissing him. Their position had changed slightly seconds ago, so that Phil was lying flat on his back, with his feet dangling slightly off the edge of the bed and Dan was settled on top of him, with his legs straddling him.  
“I have an idea,” said Phil, now with his hands pushing Dan closer to him so that he couldn’t resist kissing him. Dan drew away from Phil’s mouth though, letting his lips brush against skin, dragging his teeth further down. When his tongue had found the softest spot on Phil’s neck, he started sucking. At first Phil just continued his low humming, but when Dan gently started using his teeth on his sensitive skin, a low gasp escaped his mouth and his hips thrust up.  
“Dan,” he stuttered. He was getting out of breath. “I don’t think my parents will like this very much…”  
“Really,” Dan murmured, but kept sucking. “Will you though?”  
“Ye-ah,” he let out, as Dan bit down harder. Phil’s was pulling harder and harder in his hair, and if he placed his hips in a specific place on Phil’s lap, he would be able to feel his bulge. He drew back and sat up. Phil’s head was arched back and lain to the side so that the little spot Dan had sucked on was showing. Without hesitation, Dan started working the buttons of Phil’s shirt. When Phil discovered Dan was no longer kissing him, he turned around and looked up at him. His eyes were lazy and his smile was wide.  
“Are you sure of this Dan?”  
“Mhmm,” Dan hummed. Phil shirt was open and his pale skin was soft and warm. He looked into his eyes. “I trust you.”  
At this, Phil caught hold of Dan’s waist, and, in a quick movement, turned Dan around so that they were both lying on their sides. Phil’s arm was resting on top of Dan’s so that his hand was cupping his cheek, and their legs were tangled together.  
“Did you get the things though?” Dan said, giggling as Phil caressed his cheek.  
“The moisturiser?” Phil smirked.

Dan sat up as Phil rolled off the bed. He crawled towards the middle and straightened out the bedsheets, shook the pillows, removed the stuffed teddy bear and put his phone on his desk, so that everything would be comfortable. When Phil came back with a little white bottle and an even smaller plastic thing, he had completely taken off his shirt.  
“It’s going to make your bed messy,” he said as he sat down next to Dan. His hair now looked untidy and the bulge in his jeans had gotten more prominent.  
“I know Phil,” Dan rolled his eyes. Phil threw his things on the bed next to them, and pushed Dan back on the bed so that now, Dan was the one flat on his back. The sight of Phil crawling on top of him, his long arms on either side of him, his flat chest and broad shoulders caging him, took his breath away. The dim lighting made it impossible for Dan to see every detail of Phil, but the little ones, the dark pupils and flushed face, the bulge in his black jeans and the little specs of hair were worth every second of it. Dan’s heart started racing when Phil closed the gap between their bodies; he was warm and smelt the way he always did, just stronger. Their next kiss was wet. It was less tentative, less tender, but yet every moment of it was treasured and trusting. Phil was swirling his tongue and fucking it into Dan’s mouth. Their teeth were clicking and it was sloppy and warm. Phil’s ecstatic movements led to his body gliding up and down Dan’s, and every time their crotches met, a stream of bliss spread out in Dan’s body and his breathing sped up. His hands had started wandering; from the top of Phil’s neck to the small of his back, a quick squeeze on the butt until they rested on his bare hips. When Phil ground extra hard, Dan couldn’t help but push his hips down to meet his own. He spread his legs farther open.

“Phil,” Dan gasped through the kiss. They broke apart and Phil breathed silently into Dan’s mouth.  
“Are you okay?”  
“Yeah, I just,” he breathed. He dragged his hands away from his hips and placed them on the shoulder so that he could gently push Phil off him. “I need to-”  
Without saying anything, he started unzipping his jeans. Phil seemed to get the gist, and moved off him completely to do the same. They were both just in their boxers when Phil resumed his place on Dan and started kissing down his chest. His eyes, that were dark and blue, were looking up at him as he went past his nippes and down towards his tummy. They were intoxicating. When he reached the bottom of his stomach he stopped, took hold of the waistband of his pants, and waited. There was a smirk playing on his lips.  
“Please Phil,” Dan pleaded. With shaking hands, Dan slipped his underwear off. He was only semi-hard, but with Phil kissing around his base and licking his balls, he felt his arousal rise. Slowly, Phil started kissing up his cock, dragging his tongue up and down and humming quietly around it. When he put his tongue across his slit, Dan let out a small gasp and his whole body arched back with his hips thrusting forward.  
“Oh god,” he said. Phil laughed a little, but then took all of him. Slick hotness surrounded his cock, and his little gasps came quicker after each other, becoming breathless moans. Phil bobbed his head and hollowed his cheeks, letting his tongue slide after him, licking around his cock. In the spur of the moment, Dan’s hands went to Phil’s hair and started pushing.

“Phil wait,” he gasped. He pulled his head up and looked him in the eyes. “Can we maybe wait with this for another time? I kind of want to make use of that lube.”  
Dan felt his face heating up, but Phil just smirked. “Alright,” he said. He gave the tip of his cock one last close-mouthed kiss, and sat up again. His lips were red, and when he gave Dan another kiss on the mouth, it tasted salty and wet. Phil kept kissing him, but let his hand wander lower. At first, his hand was slow around his cock, but as soon as Dan’s breathing and little gasps frequented, he sped up and jerked him off properly. Dan moaned into the kiss, and hugged Phil tightly, so that their chests were flush together. When Phil let his hand go over his tip, Dan moaned louder and started thrusting his hips into his hand. At this, Phil stopped.  
“Please,” Dan whimpered. Phil sat up with his knees still straddling Dan, and started pouring the lube onto his fingers.  
“Can you spread your legs a bit?” He asked sweetly. Dan did as he was told, and soon, Phil’s fingers were circling his rim. With his other hand, he took hold of Dan’s hand and gently caressed the palm of his hand. “Are you ready?”  
“Yeah,” he said, and Phil slowly slipped his index finger inside. It was cold, and it stung a little. When he did it himself, it was a dry, painful feeling. When Phil did it, it was an oily sensation, which, every time Phil drew his finger through his walls, it gave a tingly feeling towards his cock.  
“One more please,” he gasped. His head was arched back, and when Phil slipped another finger in, he tightened the grip on his hand. Phil cooed at him, told him it was okay, and somehow, it made him want more.  
“Oh god,” he moaned, when Phil sped up a little. “Please Phil.”  
When he added a third finger, Dan almost couldn’t hold himself together. With every thrust of his finger, he pushed his hips forward, where his dick would meet nothing but air.  
“Can you,” he panted and closed his eyes. “Please get in me.”  
“Mhmm,” Phil growled, and retracted his fingers and started fumbling with the condom packaging, as Dan hole clenched around nothing. It took Phil about what felt like five minutes to get the condom out, throw his pants away, and roll it on without ruining it. If Dan hadn’t been in such a need for release, he would have laughed.

“Come on Phil,” he demanded. As Phil lubed himself up, he held eye contact with Dan. His eyes were wide and his chest was sinking and rising very fast. He had a wanton expression on his face. Dan hooked his legs around his waist to give him better access, and once Phil had finished lubing up, he put a slink hand around Dan’s bum to keep him in place. Slowly, Phil slipped the tip inside. It was overwhelming. The pain of the stretching was worse than he had ever experienced by fingering himself. When he went in further, Dan whimpered helplessly and tightened his hold of Phil’s hand. Phil’s face made the pain worth it; he was bend over, his mouth agape and his eyes looking darkly at Dan. When he started moving, he let out a low growl, and shot his eyes closed. He was slow at first, pushing in quickly, but dragging out slowly, so that Dan had time to get used to the feeling. As Phil sat up a rhythm, slowly starting to go faster, Dan’s free hand wandered to his cock, and held it desperately in place. Phil started pounding into him with fast thrusts, going harder and deeper each time. The feeling was ecstatic. Every time Phil hit the spot deep inside him, it gave a rush of steamy arousal everywhere in his body; from the tips of his toes to every string of his hair. His moans became more incoherent as Phil’s thrusts became more dynamic; he angled his hips in a different way each time.  
“Dan,” Phil panted deeply, as he clenched his eyes together and pushed Dan’s hips harder towards himself. “I’m gonna-”

And with a low, helpless moan, Phil gave one final thrust and started coming inside of Dan. Whilst coming down from his high, he placed his free hand around Dan’s cock and started jerking him off. With a mixture of bliss from Phil’s continuous sounds of pleasure and the friction on his cock, Dan felt a fire pooling in his lower abdomen, and with a high moan, he came all over his chest. Letting go of Dan’s hand and cock, Phil collapsed on top of him and let out a deep sigh.  
“That was really good,” he said. His head was resting on Dan’s chest. He could feel the cum between them, it was sticky, wet and he wanted to clean it up. But then Phil was humming against his chest, and he looked so relaxed and blissful that moving him would probably be a fatal decision. Instead, he let his fingers go through the soft, messy mane that was Phil’s hair.  
After a moment, he could feel Phil snoring lightly against him.


	13. Chapter 13

                            

 

Dan woke up in extreme comfort. The bed was soft and smelled strongly of something he associated with the hot scent of the events of the night before. His entire body was relaxed with bliss; his legs, tangled with Phil’s around the ankles, were pressed loosely against the mattress, numb with contentment. His groin was buried softly in between Phil’s legs and his head was resting on Phil’s shoulder, the back of his hair tickling the sensitive spot just below his ear. He sighed deeply and curled his fingers into the messy sheets on the other side of Phil, caving him in in a warm embrace. His hottened duvet had been kicked towards the foot of the bed, as their radiant body heat had become far more enticing throughout the dark night. Consciousness wasn’t yet welcome, and he shot out all thoughts that would ruin the peace to instead focus on the smell of Phil’s hair and how his skin felt underneath his lips if he let them brush against his neck. Lying like this, Dan could feel Phil’s deep breaths as his back moved along them; the movement was alluring, and was quick to lull him back to dreamland.

When he finally woke up, it was because of the door being opened and a loud gasp filling the room.  
“Daniel,” a voice hissed. His mother was standing in the doorway, a shocked frown on her face. “What is this?”  
Dan sat up slowly, dusts of sleep settled in his eyes which made his vision blurry. “What is what?”  
“This,” she hissed again, pointing to the bed where Phil was still nuzzled into Dan’s body. “What is he doing in your bed?”  
“What does it look like he’s doing?” Dan said. His tired mind was now fully aware of what was happening. They had fallen asleep on top of each other, but during the night Phil had somehow fallen off him and cuddled his back into him so that they were spooning. Dan let his fingers brush over his naked arm with a smile. He was asleep; his chest rose solemnly for every little breath he drew.  
His mother didn’t answer him. With three long steps she strode across the room, stopped before the bed, and took hold of Dan’s arm to drag him out.  
“No, Mum wait-” Dan cried, but it was too late. She had already dragged him so much away that his naked mid-part had been revealed.  
“Oh my god!” She screamed and closed her eyes as she let go of him.  
“Let me just,” Dan said, as he tried finding a pair of underwear. His cheeks were undoubtedly red. He found a pair by the foot of the bed that he didn’t recognise and quickly put them on. “It’s fine, I’m covered!”  
“I can’t believe this,” his mother said. Dan only listened with half an ear, as he was trying to pull his exceptionally skinny jeans up. “It was such a lovely evening.” Her fingers were going through her thin, grey hair. “They were so happy together. I almost had the wedding planned.” She turned towards Dan, now fully dressed, and scowled at him. “Then you stole him. You ruined everything!”  
“What’s your problem?” Dan said through his teeth. “They weren’t happy. It was all fake. Amy doesn’t want a boyfriend.”  
“I don’t care about Amelia’s lesbianism,” she raged. “She’ll get over it. She’ll marry a perfect, classy man with a stable job and a thirst for money, so that she will never have to worry about anything.”  
“Pfft,” Dan breathed, crossing his arms. “Does that mean I can take Phil?” He looked over at the sleeping figure on his bed. He was cute when he was sleeping, but in no way classy. Phil stirred a little, and his breathing rhythm stopped. It seemed he was waking up. His mother was also looking at him, now a disturbed frown upon her face rather than an admiring smile.  
“He’s a boy!” She yelled, as if Dan hadn’t noticed himself. Phil was definitely awake now. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see him sitting up. He kept his stare directed at his mother.  
“So?” Dan frowned. “I’m in love with him.”  
She didn’t say anything to that. Her eyes seemed to widen, and the blood-wires in her skin increased in size. If they sprung, it would make a terrible mess.  
“Excuse me?” She said. Her voice was quieter now. A shrill hiss like a snake. “What did you just say?”  
“I said,” Dan took a deep breath, “I’m in love with him.”  
“I don’t understand,” she blurted out.  
“You don’t understand the concept of love?” Dan laughed. “What a surprise.”  
Behind him, he could hear Phil gasp. Dan refused to turn around. His mother looked furious.  
“You can’t love him.”  
Dan laughed again. “Oh, is that so?” The room was quiet. If he dropped a pin on the floor, its clinging sound would fill their ears and reverberate in the tiny size. “Well, I do. What are you gonna do about it?”  
A pause. Phil shifted behind him. He was looking carefully around for his clothes. The coldness between Dan and his mother had undoubtedly spread around them.  
“I forbid it,” she said.  
“You can’t.”  
“Yes I can. I’m your mother. You’re not of age.”  
“That doesn’t mean anything,” he said incredulous, “you can’t lock me in. I can do whatever I want with my life. “  
She didn’t reply to this, just looked away from him and back at Phil. He was dressed now, too, but remained quiet.  
“What is even your problem?” Dan asked, forcing her to look at him again. “It doesn’t hurt you who I love. Why is it so important to you? I’ll be fine.”  
“No you won’t,” she whispered. “Boys who like boys are-” she swallowed hard.  
“Gay?” Dan suggested, shrugging. “Bisexual? It doesn’t matter.”  
“Sinners,” she finished. Her temple was pulsing more furiously than even, and her hair was let down to cover most of her forehead.  
“Mum,” Dan started.  
“No,” she whispered. “You will be punished. By the law. By God. By everyone. Your life will be horrible.”  
Dan sighed. “You’re the one making it horrible.”  
“And it will backlash,” she continued. “Onto me. When the neighbours find out, they won’t like me anymore. They’ll shun me. Society will shun me.” She was talking to herself now, a distant look in her eyes. “How can you do this me, your own mother?”  
Dan felt the heat of his anger spreading in his veins. This was too much. “You can’t guilt trap me anymore,“ he yelled. “I’m your son. You’re supposed to support me. Accept me.”  
“What would your father have said.” She shook her head.  
“How dare you,” Dan raised his voice. “How dare you even mention him.”  
In a normal moment like this, where the conversation revolved around his father, he would be fighting tears back. Not now; there was no emotion. Just rage.  
“It was your fault,” he screamed. “He’s gone now and it’s your fault!”  
She was pale now. The tears rolled slowly down her wrinkled cheeks. Her eyes looked hollow, and her nose was thin. She looked older, weaker.  
“I loved him,” she sobbed.  
“Then why did you let him do it?” He yelled. There were tears in his now, too. The emotions had broken through his rage and hatred. He took a few steps forward, so that he was standing over her. She looked small. If he pushed her, she would break, and she would fall over. “You were closer to him than us. You could have stopped it.”  
“I couldn’t,” she cried. He felt his muscles tightening in his arms. His fists were clenched. He raised his arms a little. Suddenly, he felt a soft hand on his shoulders, pulling them down and calming him. He didn’t touch her. Phil’s soft coos in his ear relieved his tension.  
“Dan,” she hushed. “You don’t understand. The reason he killed himself-”  
“Was what?”  
“He uh,” she stuttered. It really looked like her temple would explode.  
“Tell me,” he said forcefully. Phil tightened his grip on his shoulders.  
She closed her eyes and let her head fall back. She stood a bit shakily, as if the thought had made her dizzy. Her breath had gone ragged. She had to snap after it. It looked painful, but that wasn’t important.  
“He was diagnosed with cancer, Dan.” She gulped.  
Dan didn’t understand. Cancer. That wasn’t a thing he knew about. Surely, that’s something you tell your kids.  
“Cancer,” he whispered. “Why didn’t I know about this?”  
“He didn’t want you to know,” she said. She had to support herself on Dan’s desk now. “He didn’t want to see you sad.”  
His heart was working at extra speed now. So, it seemed, was his mother’s. She was clutching her chest, and her little gasps were becoming more strained.  
“Then why didn’t you tell me afterwards?”  
Dan looked down at her with fierce eyes. “I-” she started, but with one hard gasp, she went quiet. There was a loud thud when she hit the floor, and the world stood still.  
Dan forgot how to breathe. The only thing he could hear was Phil’s panicky curse words. The only thing he could see was his mother’s still body on the floor.  
“Dan,” Phil screamed. “We have to call an ambulance.”  
Dan didn’t know if he did call an ambulance, but Phil disappeared. He was sure his mother would wake up in a second, but she didn’t.


	14. Chapter 14

                                

 

The hospital wasn't particularly nice. The lighting was too bright and the chair he was sitting in too hard. It was raining outside, and the streams of water gave loud clunks when it hit the roof. They had been in the hospital for a few hours; a nurse had just left the room after having informed them that their mother would be alright. Still, there was something unsettling between them. They weren’t talking to each other, and all Amy had done the entire day was to eat chocolate bars and look down at her feet. Phil was sitting excessively close to him; their sides were pressed up against each other, Phil’s head was resting casually on his shoulder and their fingers were intertwined on Dan’s thigh. If it hadn’t been for Phil, Dan would never have managed to get his mother to the hospital. And technically, it was Dan’s fault that she had suffered a heart attack in the first place. It was insufferable knowing how the situation could have ended.  
The woman in the hospital bed was pale, and looked about ten years older. He imagined his dad, bulky, big and tough, in the same bed, with the same empty expression on his face. That would have been reality had his family not been incorporated in this disgusting net of secrecy and lies. Had honesty been considered a strength rather than a weakness, Dan's life would have looked different. Lighter and happier, with no burden lying on his shoulders and no fatal unknowingness swarming him.  
"I want this family to change," he said. Amy looked up at him slowly. Her hair was messy and she had bags as big as tea bags underneath her eyes. "I want all the secrets and all the lies to be a finished part of our lives. I want everyone to promise not to keep important things to themselves.”  
“I can't do that," she said quietly.  
Dan wanted to yell, he wanted to scream at his stubborn sister to not be so selfish. But his mother was in a hospital bed so he didn’t.  
“Why not?” He asked instead.  
She didn’t reply immediately, but fumbled a bit with the laces of her dress. “Look, there’s something I haven’t told you.”  
Dan waited, his eyebrows raised.  
“I’m signed up for a school,” she said. She looked worried.  
“What’s wrong with that,” he said, “that sounds like a good thing.”  
“Dan I want you to promise me that you won’t tell Mum,” she interrupted. She was looking up at him with pleading eyes. “At least not until I’m there, so she can’t do anything about it.”  
“Amy this sounds like a really bad idea. I don’t want to lie anymore.”  
“I know Dan but this is really important. I have to get away, or I’ll just be stuck here. I can’t do it anymore.”  
“I get that,” he admitted. “But why can’t you tell Mum. If it’s a boarding school she’ll probably be thrilled.”  
“Yeah that’s the thing, it is, but,” she bit her lip, looking away from him. “It’s a military school.”  
Dan snapped his head up, to which Phil made a startled noise. “A military school?”  
She nodded.  
“So you want to go into the army?”  
“Yeah,” she smiled. “Like that.”  
"But you're so," Dan's voice cracked, "so.."  
"I'm so what?" Amy interrupted. "Weak? Girly?" She crossed her arms over her chest, her foot placed firmly on the ground. She raised her eyebrow.  
"I don't know, you're just very feminine," he said, "are you sure it's the right thing?"  
"Feminine?!" She bellowed. "That's not important!" Her voice had gone shrill and high, highly resembling the figure lying still next to them. "I can kick ass in a dress!" She concluded. Dan bit his lip. He could see his sister dressed in a military suit. But the fighting, the dirt in the desert, the men with machine guns and bulletproof vests, chasing her around like a cat after a mouse, was unfamiliar to him. He shuddered.  
"Women get raped in the army," he stated bluntly.  
"Women get raped everywhere, Dan," she argued. She looked away from him, and instead directed her attention towards the man sitting silently next to him. "Help me here Phil," she pleaded.  
Phil shifted around in his seat. He wasn't looking at Dan or Amy. He hesitated for a minute. "You know she's right Dan."  
Phil’s eyes were dark and nervous, and he had a little cute pout on his lips. She was probably right, after all.  
“What is your plan then?”  
“I just need your signature. I can’t get Mum’s. She wouldn’t allow.”  
“You were sure I would allow it though,” Dan muttered to himself.  
“Well, you kind of pinky promised you’d never let me be hurt, remember that?”  
He frowned at that, yet, deep down in his memory, there was a vague picture of Amy coming into his room in the middle of the night. Though, honestly, he thought that had been a dream.  
“You won’t get hurt in the army though?”  
“Not as much as here.”  
“It’d make me sad that you have to leave though,” Dan pouted. He wouldn’t win, but there was no shame in trying.  
“You have Phil, you’ll be fine,” Amy reassured. He looked back at Phil, who had cuddled into him even more. He was smiling brightly, which made Dan forget about everything for about one second.  
Then Amy coughed. “Also, you really do owe me. I could hear you all night.”  
Dan groaned loudly and hid his face in his hands. “Please don’t ever say that again.”  
“Then stop moaning like a porn star,” she smirked.  
“Oh god,” he groaned again, but this time, before he could hide his face, Phil caught his hands in his and turned his head around. With a content smile shining on his face, he pecked Dan’s lips.  
"Gross," said Amy.

They all laughed, and it was nice. It had gotten warmer inside and the rain had stopped. Their mother was still sleeping, but he was sure that, when she woke up, they would be fine. Phil was warming his hands and telling him his favourite jokes, and Amy was smiling at them with the happiest smile he had seen on her in a long time, and they would be fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congratulations, you've made it! Honestly, if you've come this far, thank you so much. I've worked really hard on this and knowing that anyone has read it will make me very happy.


End file.
